Harry Potter and the Trident's Curse
by Midnight Star and DragonFire
Summary: The R rating is not for sex or violence, but themes, issues and slash. Will the world ever be the same? Who are the omnipotent, enigmatic trio dubbed the 'Trident' who watch over Humanity? Life is mundane in the 7th year of Hogwarts-little does everyone k
1. The Alterius Curse

**Harry Potter & the Trident's Curse**  
---  
_Saying love will stop the pain,   
Saying love will kill the fear,   
Do you believe?   
You must believe.  
_ |Supreme-Robbie Williams|  
--- 

**Part 01-**The Alterius Spell

_Voldemort's HeadQuarters during his peak of power..._

"But, my Lord...he won't be my son..." Lucius Malfoy swallowed nervously. 

The Dark Lord sighed contemptuously. "Lucius, you test my patience. Once again, I will explain. When a child is born, his character is already preordained. His future, his actions- they are already set." Voldemort glared balefully at Lucius Malfoy.

_"Do you know what is in the future for your boy?" _His voice was soft, monotonically menacing.

"He becomes a friend of the MudBloods, he falls in love with one, even. He disgraces the name of Malfoy. He even- he _even_ tries to conquer me. Is that the heir to the Malfoy dynasty?" 

"No, my Lord...." Lucius Malfoy kept his eyes on the ground. "But my Lord, how do you know this?"

"I have a book-" Voldemort's eyes narrowed. "But that is none of your concern."

"Of course not, my Lord."

"Then you will perform a simple piece of Dark Magic, the Alterius Spell. It is very much like the Imperius Curse, Lucius. The only thing is, administered soon after birth, the child will develop the traits you require in it without your bidding." Lord Voldemort stopped. "A loyal follower made from an errant traitor."

"You are right, my Lord, I should not have doubted you." Lucius Malfoy's face seemed twisted, pained. He gulped and opened his mouth again. "My Lord, is there a chance that this will-..." He lowered his eyes. "Fail?"

The Dark Lord caressed his wand thoughtfully. "Now and then flashes of his old self may come through, but that it unimportant. There is...one slim chance. If the MudBlood he was destined to love loves him, he might revert. But there is no chance of that, Lucius, we will put in him the qualities that she hates." 

"You are most masterful, my Lord." Lucius bent and reverently kissed the hem of his Masters' robes. 

"Karkaroff, Snape! Bring the child." Ivan Karkaroff and Severus Snape bowed low and glided away silently. "What will you name the child, Lucius?"

"Narcissa, my wife, she wishes to name him-...Draco." Lucius Malfoy licked his lips timidly.

"The Dragon...a good enough name." Voldemort seemed thoughtful, he looked back at Snape. Severus offered the helpless bundle to the Dark Lord. "Draco Argentus Valwracen Malfoy." 

Lucius took out a dagger and sliced himself on his finger. He let the dark, thick blood ooze into the bubbling cauldron. Reddish brown smoke rose off it and curlicued upwards. 

_ "Blood of the father, to change his son,_

To end the tale, before it has begun."

He took a ladleful of potion and tipped it into the the childs mouth. A weird, yellow-green tinge spread over the tiny figure.

_ "Slytherin qualities we require, _

Of his Masters' service he must never tire,

He will value greatly purity of Blood, 

And never associate with veins of Mud."

The glow wavered slightly. Lord Voldemort leaned close to the small boy and took out his wand. He muttered a few low words and suddenly it seemed like the child was on fire. A blinding yellow haze shone from him, it subsided a little and Lucius Malfoy watched with awe. 

Draco's honey coloured hair slowly turned lighter and lighter as his face drained of blood. All colour seemed to be leeched from his face. 

Only his eyes remained unchanged. They had always been of the coldest stone grey. Draco blinked once. Outwardly no change could be seen, but Lucius could sense that from stone they had turned to ice.

---

|| _Many years later, in Gryffindor Tower..._

Hermione Granger threw her Arithmancy book across the room with a muffled yell. It hit the wall beneath the large portrait of Godric Gryffindor and made a dent. Heads turned to stare at her as she pulled out her wand and muttered '_Reparo!_' at the wall. 

"Hermione, are you-...okay?" Ron asked, gently. Hermione glared at him.

"Oh, I'm just _fine_. Everything is going just peachy!" She sneered sarcastically. 

"Hermione-..." Harry came up to her and began.

She cut him off.

"_Leave me alone, you stupid louts!_" She threw up her hands in disgust and stalked away, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like 'insensitive gits!'.

"What's up with _her_?" Harry asked, bewildered. 

"Dunno. Not like her to chuck her homework is it?" Ron said, picking up her battered Arithmancy book. He flipped through it quickly. "Not that I blame her, though, look at this, it's at a higher level than the N.E.W.T's!" 

He put the book down in disgust. "Still, maybe there's really something wrong." Harry said, thoughtfully. "We ought to ask Sirius and Hagrid if she's talked to them."

"Oh, I'm sure she'll be fine. Maybe she's just stressed, you know?"

"I don't know, Ron, yesterday she dropped her plate at breakfast. Last Saturday she _lost_ her Quill-..." Harry stopped.

Ron had just picked up a piece of paper that had fallen out of Hermione's folder. He looked at it and offered it tremblingly to Harry. Harry gasped when he saw it. 

"A _fifteen_ out of twenty in Ancient Runes!" He whispered, shocked. 

"She must be dying." Ron concluded. "I mean-..."

"Just because you're my friends doesn't give you the right to snoop through my things!" Hermione's voice sounded unnaturally shrill. 

"But Hermione-...your scores-..." Harry said, weakly.

"That's none of your business!" She snatched the paper from his hands and ripped it into shreds.

---

|| _At the same time, in the Slytherin dungeons._

Draco Malfoy paced the cold stone rooms. The blazing fire afforded him no warmth. The coldness he felt was not physical. The virulent green decor seemed to hurt his eyes.

He stopped and sighed. He didn't understand these times when he changed. Suddenly, he would hate himself, hate his surroundings...the feeling would then pass. Just as the feeling passed he would feel like a door was being closed.

Sometimes he could even pass through the door to the other side. He saw flashes of light as he groped in the dark. Flashes of feeling and of thought. His heart would seem too cold for him to survive. Then the door would slam shut and warmth would spread over him again.

Sometimes he wished he could stay on the other side of the door.

There he had heard voices, he heard his own thoughts. He experienced a queer love, so familiar, yet so far unknown.

Now and then light would reflect on someone. The person he loved, he just couldn't see her face. He knew her face yet did not. Her eyes would sometimes turn to him.

Like Jewels in the Darkness.

Draco shook his head and banished his ever more frequent imaginings. _Stupid idiot!_ He chastised himself. _What would father say?_ Nothing probably, he's just beat you senseless. 

Is that what you want?

"Draco..." A syrupy voice interrupted him. He felt a warm hand latch onto his arm.

"Get _off_, Pansy!" He said and shook her off. She took a step back, alarmed. 

"What's _wrong_, Draco?" She continued. He fixed her with his cold grey eyes.

He hadn't meant to show anyone their power, but she had annoyed him for some reason. Perhaps because he felt that he was betraying his Love. His Jewel in the Darkness. Perhaps he felt he was being disloyal. 

Draco closed his eyes and concentrated for a second. He opened them and stared into Pansy wide glance. Her eyes opened wider for a second and then became terrified. She could feel his coldness seeping through her, pushing into every part of her body. She yelped and Draco suddenly looked away.

Draco shook slightly. He had lost control of his power. That must _never_ happen again. He trembled slightly. _Never_.

---

|| _Later, in the Seventh Year Gryffindor Girls Dormitory_

Hermione threw off her covers and made a disgusted noise. She was slipping. Her whole life was starting to crumble. 

_God, Hermione, why are you doing this to yourself? Your grades are getting to be below average and this is your last year. The most important year._

"Hermione, are you awake?" A quiet voice asked.

"Yes...I'm awake." Hermione replied. The owner of the voice opened the curtains and sat carefully on the bed. "How're you, Sylvoren?"

"How are _you_, Hermie? There's something wrong, I know." Sylvoren Trelawney touched her hand gently.

Hermione laughed softly. "Who would have thought that I, the Divination-hater, would end up being friends with a Divinator!" She stopped suddenly and buried her face in her hands. "Sylvoren...the thing is-..." Hermione gulped. "I'm in love."

For a second it looked like Sylvoren would laugh, but her face quickly became serious. "Well...I expected something a little-...graver than that...but...Anyway, who with?"

Hermione wrung her hands and gulped again. "Draco Malfoy." She said, dropping her voice further.

Sylvoren's eyes widened. "Does he-..does he love you back?" 

"I don't know!" Hermione's eyes filled with tears. "You know, Syl, sometimes it's like I can see inside the _real_ Draco. I can feel that who he seems is just a facade." 

Sylvoren didn't say a thing, but simply hugged her friend tightly. "Hermie, I don't know whether it will be all right but I just want to say I understand. Many people won't, but I do. I understand." 

---

|| _Potions Lesson, at midmorning..._

Hermione couldn't keep her eyes off the back of Draco's head. She jerked her glance away and tried to concentrate on what Professor Snape was saying. As she looked away Draco glanced back at her. 

Their eyes locked. The door suddenly swung open in Draco's head. The glance was so familiar...those eyes.

Draco shuddered. They were Granger's eyes, _Hermione's_ eyes. 

"Miss Granger! Have you been paying the least attention?" Professor Snape asked smoothly. "What is the eleventh use of DragonBlood?"

Hermione blushed red and stuttered. "Ahem-...it's...uh." She stopped. The whole class stared at Hermione in amazement.

"The infamous Know-it-all is fallible after all, I see..." Professor Snape smiled. "Potter! What is the answer?" 

Hermione tuned out again. She didn't hear Harry's answer or see Professor Snape's confused glance. 

Draco looked down. Grang- Hermione was the one he loved, the one in his imaginings. He didn't understand why, but his very being pushed him to believe his thoughts. He _must_ believe. 

He tore off a piece from his parchment and took out his quill. He screwed up his face and wrote quickly.

Hermione,

There's something important I need to talk to you about. Don't tell Potter and Weasley. I haven't done anything for you to trust me but I'm asking you to now. 

In the middle of dinner outside the library. I don't want anyone following us.

Draco 

He rolled it up and tucked it in the folds of his robe. 

_What would father do?_ He shook his head. Better not to think about it.

Professor Snape glanced at his watch. "Time up. I want a two-foot essay on the Living Death, a report on today's class and at least three feet of research on the uses of Dragons Blood. Miss Granger, in your case I'd like the essay to be _five_ feet long." Snape seemed surprised at Hermione's lack of it thereof, but did not comment. "This has been a terrible class. Everyone, especially the Gryffindors, has been slacking off." 

He glowered at them and then turned to gather up his instruments.

_Sad man, Snape._ Draco thought, understanding Snape for the first time. _I understand how bitter he must feel...to have lost her..._

Looking at Snape's bitter face Draco's resolve stiffened. He glanced around and panicked. _Where was Hermione?_

He fairly ran out of class. She was walking away talking to Potter, Weasley and Trelawney. She glanced back and suddenly dropped her books.

Draco could have sworn she did it on purpose.

"Uh- I'll catch up, okay?" She twittered. She slowly started gathering up her books.

Draco started walking towards her slowly, and as he passed her, dropped the piece of parchment on the floor next to her casually. She glanced at him intently and then picked it up.

He continued on in silence.

It was her turn now.

---

|| _The Great Hall at dinner time..._

Hermione's hands trembled as she set down her dinner plate. She looked around for Draco but he was nowhere to be seen. Her stomach felt light and queasy. The food seemed unappetising. 

"Come on Herm, eat up, you'll upset the house-elves!" Ron joked, nudging her. 

Hermione tried to make a mock-angry face but failed. "I'm not feeling to well..." 

"Is there anything I can do, are you all right?" Ron's face loomed concerned in front of mine. He reminded Hermione of his mother.

_Draco's so unlike anyone I've ever known. He's outwardly unfriendly, defensive...mean. But I know that inside he's sensitive. I won't say that he's _good_. He's more interesting than any boy I've known._ Hermione thought.

She giggled softly. _He's handsome, too. I don't go for just looks but he's grown well._

Hermione glanced at her watch. It was right in the middle of dinnertime. She got up hastily. "I'm going to go-..relax for a while, okay? You, um, take your time." 

"Sure, I'll bring up some food-..." Ron began.

"No! I'll be fine!" Hermione said. 

She pushed her plate forward and hurried away. She stopped outside the library, but didn't look in, not wanting to be caught by the Madame Pince.

She paced quickly. _It's so stupid of me to come! It's probably a trick...he's probably waiting with his gang of Slytherins to laugh at me..._

"Hermione." The softness in Draco's voice startled her. _He called me Hermione..._

"Hello Draco." She softened her voice in reciprocation. Draco put out his wand hand and placed the other to his lips. 

Hermione hesitated for a moment but then took it, shivering in his icy clutch. He drew her into the shadows and round the library. He quickly opened a door and closed it behind her.

"_Lumos!_" He muttered, lighting the area. "It's the old Transfiguration classroom."

Desks and chairs were littered around the room and cobwebs hing from the ceiling.

Draco let go of her hand. "I suppose you're wondering why I asked you to meet me." 

Hermione nodded. 

"Hermione every now and then I see images. I see a door. It's opening into another life, a life that I had before. I don't know how or where. I hear voices, feelings...thoughts. They've been getting more frequent." Draco stopped and took a deep breath.

"Hermione, on the other side of the door it's Darkness. The thing I see most are two eyes. Two eyes belonging to a woman that I loved and loved me. I could only see the eyes, I could only see those Jewels in the Darkness." Draco stopped and sat down heavily. Hermione tremblingly reached out a hand and touched his shoulder.

Draco almost recoiled, the touch was so warm and without repugnance. "Hermione, I figured out who those eyes belong to." He looked downwards and then into her eyes. "They're _yours_."   
---  
--- 


	2. The Confession

**Harry Potter & the Trident's Curse**  
---  
_If ever the Gold and Silver entwine,  
And disregard the boundary line  
_ |HPTC-Midnight Star|  
--- 

**Part 2**-The Confession

_Right after Draco's little confession..._

Hermione felt utter and complete shock. The idea of loving Draco Malfoy was appealing...from a distance. She hadn't been ready for the mere idea to be thrust into reality. She hadn't been ready for him to love her too. 

She was afraid. Like she'd never been before.

_A Gryffindor and a Slytherin._ Hermione thought rapidly. _What would people say, what would they do? What if it doesn't work out in the end?_

"Hermione?" Draco asked, softly. His eyes were sad, they seemed to pull her closer. Inexplicably, irresistibly...closer...

Hermione blinked, breaking the connection between them. She looked away. "Draco, before now, I thought...I thought that I liked you..." She stopped, unsure.

"And you don't any more? It would be typical of a _girl_." He sighed, shaking his head.

"No...I still do, it's just, I don't know if I'm ready yet...I mean-..."

"You're _ashamed_. You're ashamed and afraid that your little Gryffindor friends will condemn you for what you feel. Condemn you for loving a Slytherin." Draco said, bitterly. 

He knew this would happen. Chaos raged in his head...voices saying opposite things, commanding with almost equal force. One guiding him, one leading him...

"I'm afraid, I admit it. I think we should start out...slower? Friendship first...I hardly even know you." 

"I scared you by saying 'Love' didn't I, Hermione? I'm-...sorry." He said the word quickly, unused to it's sound in his mouth. 

"No...I'm sorry for being afraid...I don't think it'd work so fast." Hermione said, gently.

"Well, _I do!_" Draco hissed angrily, suddenly. "_I do!_ And I'm putting so much more on the line for you, Hermione Granger. Do you have any idea what my father- forget him, _the Dark Lord_ himself...can you even imagine my fate if he heard my words to you?" 

Draco seized her shoulders, leaned close and shook her. He stared into her eyes with the same cold power that he had exerted over Pansy. Only this time it was stronger, fuelled by his frustration, his fear...his anger...

Hermione shook her head, tears forming in her eyes. She started to shake uncontrollably and her face twisted into a mask of terror. She tried to look away but her eyes remained there, held by a far greater force.

Draco suddenly pushed her away. She hit the blackboard with a thud and slowly crumpled down, crying. Draco held his face in his hands.

"What have I done? What did I-...no..." He muttered, breathing hard. He got up and kneeled beside Hermione.

"Hermione...I'm sorry, I don't know-..." He placed a hand on her knee.

Hermione didn't lift her face. "Go away! Go _away_! You say you love me Draco, but you're hurting me...please, just stay away." She choked between sobs. "I can't handle-..."

"Please, I didn't mean-..."

"Well, you _did_. Please, Draco, I have to think...you scared me...I-.." Her voice broke.

Draco squeezed her knee slightly and then calmly walked away. A few minutes later Hermione looked up with one thought in her mind.

_This isn't how love is supposed to be._ ---

|| _The 7th Year Slytherin Boys Dormitory..._

_No, no, no!_ Draco slammed his fist down hard on the table. 

He felt frustrated, angry, but he didn't know why. He didn't know whether he was frustrated because Hermione didn't reciprocate his love, because he hurt her or because he had done something amazingly stupid.

_You've gone and done it Draco._ He thought, bitterly. _And you thought Crabbe and Goyle were morons._

Draco pulled the blankets over his body, curled up tightly and drifted into sleep. 

_The door shook and then creaked open softly. From the door darkness poured forth, like a sea, washing over his body and soul. It pulled him, dragged him to the edge of the precipice...the boundary between two worlds._

The darkness dragged him in.

The woman was there, shrouded in shadow. She looked at him again, her eyes filled with warm sympathy.

"Hermione?" Draco called, uncertainly. The figure merely nodded her head. She moved her lips, but no sound came out.

She stopped and instead, quaveringly, held out her hand. Her fingers were long and slim. He noticed nothing but the glimmering Emerald ring on her finger. It was of wrought silver, with two snakes entwined about a large, shimmering emerald. 

Draco lifted his hand halfway and then dropped it down again. His face regained the arrogant sneer that was almost second nature to him. That was_ second nature to him. _

"Go away, you stupid imagining. MudBlood filth!" He yelled, without thinking. 

He turned and pushed himself over the boundary, slamming the door shut hard behind him.

Behind the door, a single tear trickled down the figure's face. 

~*~*~*

_Transfiguration lesson, the next day..._

Draco kept his eyes firmly to the front of the class. He was _not_ going to look at Herm- Granger. _Granger. It's Granger._ He corrected himself. _It's probably just hormones, Draco. Maybe you're too stressed because of the N.E.W.T's._ Draco shook his head. _Or just scared of what father will do to you if you do badly._

Hermione sat down behind Draco. She glanced at him nervously a few times, but he didn't look back.

_He hurt you._ Hermione said to herself. _But you hurt him, too. That must have been hard for a Malfoy._ Hermione smiled ironically. _God, Hermione, is this what it's all about? You and Draco reduced to MudBlood and Malfoy? Are you falling into the trap of bigotry, too?_

"Good afternoon. I hope that you've all completed your homework _correctly_. The N.E.W.T's aren't far away, I hope you've all been studying." Hermione shifted uncomfortably with the rest of the class. McGonagall eyes her warily.

"Now, look at Page..." The Professor's voice reverberated around Draco's brain, but he didn't understand. He tried to concentrate but all he could see was Hermione's tear streaked face staring at him.

_Why do I have to lose control?_ He berated himself, softly. _Why does she even matter. She's the complete opposite of me, mentally and physically. She's everything I've been warned against._

"MALFOY! What did I just say?" Draco jumped and glanced around. 

"Uhm...you said..." He bit his lip nervously. 

Hermione narrowed her eyes and made a decision. She leaned forwards imperceptibly and whispered "Live Transfiguration." 

Draco, without indicating that he even heard her, smiled and said smoothly. "You were talking about Live Transfiguration, Professor."

Professor McGonagall glanced at him sharply and nodded. "That's right, it seems you were paying more attention than I thought. Ah, the main thing to remember when transfiguring live objects into other live objects is..."

Draco leaned back slightly. "Thankyou." He said, quickly. 

Hermione smiled. "You're welcome." _At least he didn't call you Granger._ She thought.

---

|| _In a dark wood, somewhere in England..._

"My Lord, you summoned." Lucius Malfoy nodded his head towards the glowering figure.

Lord Voldemort lifted his wand. "_Crucio_." He said, easily. 

Lucius Malfoy fell to the floor and moaned, beads of sweat appeared on his face and his hands shook. "My Lord- why?" He croaked, touching the hem of the Dark Lord's robes.

"Two reasons, my complacent friend...first, you did not bow. You may be one of my most prominent Death Eaters, but that does not make you above respect." Voldemort's red eyes glowed. "Second, you have not watched your heir closely enough. Events are occuring that could endanger the whole of the Dark Side." 

"_Crucio_." Voldemort said suddenly. Lucius fell to the ground, writhing and twitching with agony. He gasped. "And you will _never_ demand reasons from your master!" 

"Never, my Lord, I beg forgiveness." His voice was broken, unlike the confident tones of just a few seconds before.

"But, my Lord, how can this-..."

"Be silent, it has happened. It is and will not be an easy path for them. Slytherins and Gryffindors were never meant to be together." For a second, Lucius Malfoy thought he saw sadness flicker over his Master's face.

He looked again and it was gone. He must have been imagining it.

"My Lord, surely Draco does not love this MudBlood also?" Lucius seemed shocked.

"The girl's love has counteracted the effect of my Curse. You know your son was not a fit heir. You have failed in that respect, Lucius." Voldemort ran his fingers down his wand.

"It was not I who instilled the love of MudBloods in him, my Lord! It must have been Narcissa!" Lucius said, wildly. 

"Yes, I am quite sure it was Narcissa. It was a stupid choice, beauty but no loyalty. You never could keep your hands off the women, could you, Lucius?" 

"I am sorry, my Lord." 

"You will be more than sorry soon, Lucius, I can sense it. You think you are controlling _them_, but in reality, they control _you_." Lucius shuddered. Was his docile, controlled Narcissa actually controlling _him_? 

It was not possible.

"But the matter of your disgraceful heir and the MudBlood..."

"My Lord, can we not stop it, avert the disaster?" Lucius did not even know what disaster would occur.

"Fool, there is no need. Lord Salazar and Gryffindor cursed them eternally." Voldemort removed a thick book from his robes and opened a page.

_If ever the Gold and Silver entwine,_

And disregard the boundary line,

If their love is true, t'will survive,

If not, but one will remain alive,

One will become the Gold one's heir,

And one will fall into Silver's snare.

Blood of the old shall replenish the new

Blood of many for the gain of a few.

If the course they steer is of Love,

Then of the Curse they are Above.

But in the end Destruction will knell

One will stand where the other fell.

"My Lord, I do not understand." 

"It means, Lucius, that if they fall completely in love and then fall out, one will become Slytherin's heir and the other Gryffindor's heir and of those two only one will survive." Voldemort seemed to be immersed in memory, far away.

"But the rest of it, master, Blood of the old?"

"You will understand when the time comes, Lucius, till then do not flaunt your ignorance."

"Has this curse ever occured before, my Lord?" Lucius asked, surprised at his daring.

Lord Voldemort glanced at him briefly and said with elaborate casualness. "Yes, it has. But that is unimportant, even if they _do_ fall completely in love, which is a minute possibility, they are sure to fall out of love. Then we will have them. There is no way to lose."

Lucius smiled, but his insides were afraid. _Not unless Gryffindor's heir kills ours._

---

|| _Dumbledore's office..._

"Really, Albus, you're getting paranoid." Minerva McGonagall said, impatiently.

"I am _not_ Minerva, I can feel something about." Albus Dumbledore sighed. "It just hasn't come to a head yet."

"It's probably just Christmas, there _is_ an odd feeling in the air. The last time I felt this apprehensive about the feast was James and Sirius' Seventh Year."

Dumbledore smiled and the creases in his face lifted. "Ah, the memorable time when everyone who tried to kiss under the mistletoe found themselves turned into it."

"Let's not forget the cake that turned everyone into reindeer with red noses...and the exploding christmas crackers." Minerva smiled. 

"But the best thing was the trick on you, Minerva, priceless, I can still see the-..." Minerva interrupted him quickly.

"Let's not discuss that, Albus." She said, blushing heavily.

"No...enough reminiscing." Dumbledore's face returned serious. "The present and future are concerning enough. I'm telling you Minerva, whether for good or bad, something's brewing."

Minerva sighed. "I will keep on the lookout, it's just that trouble is everywhere now, Albus."

"I know." Albus Dumbledore leaned back in his seat. "Just the same, it would be best if we postponed the Yule ball till _after_ Christmas. It's the perfect time to strike. Everything gets rather disorganised..."

"Very well, Albus, the students won't be pleased, I'll tell you that much."

---

|| _The Quidditch Pitch, Slytherin vs. Gryffindor practice session_

The wind whistled through Harry's hair as he scanned the area for the fluttering Snitch. Draco hovered nearby, watching his every move. He didn't look to good, Harry noted.

Gryffindor and Slytherin had been trained well in the past months, and were almost equal in skill. Draco and Harry had both been offered captaincy, but both had turned it down for different reasons.

Harry, because he could not see himself motivating the team and yelling like Wood, and Draco because he knew that he could control the team without being captain and taking on the responsibility. This way, if Slytherin lost, Lucius would not be able to blame Draco completely.

Draco tightened his grip on the broomstick, it seemed to slip from his hands. The air looked hazy around him and he felt feverish. _I must be sick._ Draco reasoned.

_If I call the match off, they'll think I'm too afraid to play with I'm-so-famous-Potter. Get ahold of yourself, Draco, it's just a 'flu._ Inside him, Draco knew it was more than a simple flu.

His head ached throbbingly and his insides writhed and cavorted madly.

The door in his head kept trying to force itself open and it was taking every ounce of Draco's strength to combat it. To push the door back. He didn't want it to open.

_I will not be overpowered by a fictional door, goddamit shut!_ He screamed mentally. _Damn you, Herm- Granger. Why are you doing this to be._

Draco suddenly looked up, alerted by his sixth sense, a Bludger was coming towards him!

He lunged out of the way on his Firebolt Extra, a 'gift' from his father, and turned in the air.

He hung upside down and slowly, as if he was somebody else, he saw himself lose grip on the Broomstick and fall, slowly at first but then faster and faster till he hit the ground with a sickening, crunching thud.

Still observing himself dispassionately, he calmly noted that his right ankle was definitely broken and his robes were torn and bloody.

With a sudden _whooshing_ sound he reentered his body. The pain slowly seeped into his brain. His ankle felt splintery and the gash in his side burned.

He felt a warm touch on his hand. "Oh God, Draco, are you all right?" _Hermione Granger._

Draco nodded and tried to prop himself up on his arms. "They're getting Madam Pomfrey, don't move." She said, as the Slytherins and Gryffindors came down. "Does it hurt badly?" _Of course it does, Hermione, you stupid git!_ She said to herself.

"Father's done worse." He said quietly, suddenly, making the decision to act brave. Hermione looked taken aback. "I'll survive." His eyes smiled.

"Get off him, Buck-Tooth!" Pansy Parkinson said, shrilly. "Dra_co_ are you okay? That was such a big fall! You are _so_ brave."

Draco rolled his eyes. "_You_ get off, Pansy." He reached for his wand. "_Reparium Fractura_." He said, instantly mending his leg.

Madam Pomfrey looked on with amusement. "I see, Mr. Malfoy, that you've decided to make my job a little easier. Come along, you need some rest." 

"I'm fine, Madam Pomfrey, _really_." Draco said, sighing.

"Come along!" She snapped, grabbing the back of his robes and muttering about 'dangerous sports' and 'self healing know it alls'.

"Come _on_." Draco said, helplessly, as Madam Pomfrey dragged him up. "This isn't fair."

"Very little in life is, now come along and stop acting like a First Year or I'll have to Stun you." 

Draco let himself be led away in silence at this threat. Hermione giggled.

The sight of the tall, manly Draco Malfoy being led away by the collar by a short, determined witch was just too much for her. 

She was about to start laughing when she caught sight of Harry's face. It looked confused.

"Is-...something wrong, Harry?" Hermione asked, nervously.

Harry narrowed his eyes and looked at her intently. Hermione shivered, his green eyes looked startlingly observant. "You know you can tell me anything, right Hermione?"

_Everything, Harry?_ She thought mentally. _Would you accept everything?_

Hermione took a deep breath. "Of course. _Everything_." 

Harry smiled and turned away. He didn't see Hermione's troubled gaze rest on the pale, cold figure in the distance. 

---

|| _The hospital wing..._

Lying in the cold bed in the hospital wing, Draco stared at the ceiling aimlessly.

His mind was in a whirl. He had just told H-Granger that his Father hit him. "You do the most idiotic things sometimes, Draco Malfoy." He said.

"We all do." Draco turned.

In his mind, the doors came crashing down.

---  
--- 


	3. Regrets and Rebellion

**Harry Potter & the Trident's Curse**  
---  
_Dulce et Decorum est pro imperatori more.  
_ |HPTC-Malfoy family motto|  
--- 

**Part 3**- Regrets and Rebellion

_The hospital Wing..._

"We all do."

"Potter!" Draco choked out. "What do you want?"

"That isn't the question, Malfoy. What do _you_ want?" Harry's face twisted as if he was fighting an internal battle.

"What do you mean?"

"What do you want with Hermione?" Draco blanched even whiter than he already was.

"You're mad, Potter." He spat. Harry looked determined.

"Look, Malfoy, I'm not stupid, and I'm not biased like her other friends..." Harry said, narrowing his eyes. "I've seen you two together, the little looks, the way you look so uncomfortable with each other, so I'm here to protect her." Draco laughed.

"From what? Draco 'the sex-mad' Malfoy?" _Draco? Is your brain still functioning? You're speaking to Oh-So-Famous-Potter!_ He asked himself.

Harry seemed on the verge of smiling but stopped himself. "Maybe...but what do you want with her?" Harry sat down on a chair. "She's not a PureBlood, she's not blonde, she hasn't got pointy Malfoy features and she isn't a popular socialite. I mean, don't you have requirements or something?"

"Oh, yeah, _honestly_, Potter...even _I_ didn't know you were that stupid..." Draco said, inwardly thinking, _He's right, Draco, he's really right..._ "And anyway, I'm _not_ going out with her."

Harry crossed his arms and glared at Draco. "I'm just going to sit here till you tell me."

"What, you're going to manage without your little Fan-Club-...I spoke too soon, here they come." Draco smiled maliciously as Ron and Hermione walked in.

"Harry, what are you doing?" Ron asked, urgently. "Are you all right, what about the match?"

"It's off, Malfoy isn't exactly on top of the world." 

"Sarcasm doesn't suit you, Potter." Draco settled back onto the pillow. "Where's Pomfrey when you need her? _Why_ are you all clustered around my bed?"

Ron glared at him. "We're here about Harry, Malfoy. Don't flatter yourself."

"You've seen him, haven't you, now take Scarface and go." Draco seemed impatient. He looked at Hermione out of the corner of his eye.

"Ron, you and Herm leave, Malfoy and I need to have a little-...chat..." Ron looked aghast. Harry glanced at him quickly. 

He stalked off without a word. Hermione looked back at Draco and then Harry, turned on her heel and hurried out.

"Okay, Malfoy, this started off wrong...let's put it this way. I _know_ you like Hermione and that she maybe likes you." He misinterpreted the look on Draco's face for impatience and continued on quickly. "You don't have to tell me why. When I came in, you were saying something about idiotic things..." Harry's internal conflict seemed to have been solved.

Draco bit his lip. _I'll tell Potter everything and then put a Memory Charm on him...he'll never know..._

"Yeah, I was thinking that I was stupid for liking her." Draco didn't say Hermione's name and looked away.

Harry tried to keep a straight face, but his worry shone through. "Oh." 

"Yeah...look, Potter, I really, really like her...and that's the truth."

"Why should I believe you, Malfoy? How do I know you're not using her? Hermione's very naive." Draco sighed impatiently.

"If I was using her, why would I even tell you?" Harry considered for a second and then nodded dubiously. "And anyway, what would I use her for?"

"What about your parents and Voldemort?"

Draco bit his lip. "Potter, cool it on the names, okay?" It was completely forbidden to even think the Dark Lord's name in his Manor. "They'll murder me...no, worse...worse than kill me. Come to think of it, I might even be tossed to the dementors." 

Harry seemed shocked. "Your parents would-...actually do that?"

_He's never going to remember it...you can drop the act, Draco..._ "My father would..." Draco smiled. "Hey, no loss to you, huh, Potter?"

Harry looked confused and then smiled timidly.

"You hate me, don't you, Potter?" Draco asked, still smiling queerly.

Harry faltered. "No, Malfoy...I don't really...I just, well, I just _really_ dislike you." Draco seemed satisfied. "So you really like Hermione?"

"Yeah. Does she really like me?" 

Harry got up. "I don't know, Malfoy." He shook his head. "Hurt her and I'll do _worse_ than the Dementors."

"Ooh, is ickle Harry being the big bwudder?" Draco laughed. 

"Well, somebody's got to do it."

"Hey, Potter, I'd like to say I'm sorry for this, but..." Draco said as Harry looked bewildered. He drew out his wand. "_Obliviate!_"

To Draco's horror Harry threw himself on the floor. _Damn those Quidditch reflexes!_

"Is that the only reason why you said those things Malfoy, because you were going to wipe my memory?" Harry seemed hurt.

"Yeah, Potter, it was. Do you think I can trust you at all, ScarFace?" Draco snarled as he hurled himself of of bed. 

"_Expelliarmus!_" Draco's wand suddenly flew out of his fingers and he let out a hiss of rage.

Harry was holding the wands in his right hand. Draco suddenly lunged at him and caught him below the waist.

"_Oof..._" Harry gasped, as Draco pushed him to the floor. He tried to pull the wands out of Harry's fingers but Harry was too quick.

Harry drew up his right hand and punched Draco in the face as hard as he could. The two wands left thin red marks on his cheek. Draco tightened his grip on Harry's wrist and drove his knee into Harry's stomach.

"Dammit."

"Ow."

"Crap, Malfoy, get off, you're too heavy!"

"Give me my fu-..." Draco stopped suddenly and got up. Harry, bewildered, followed suit. Draco brushed off his robes and winced. "Hello P-Professor McGonagall." 

_Oh, shit..._ Harry thought and glanced at Draco. Their eyes met in a moment of mutual sympathy and then they suddenly looked away.

Professor McGonagall's face had two angry red patches on her cheeks and her eyes glinted bloody murder.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy." Her voice was oddly strained and formal. She swallowed and suddenly her rage broke out. "WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!?" She demanded.

"THIS IS A HOSPITAL WING! YOU'RE SEVENTH YEARS, WHAT KIND OF EXAMPLE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE SETTING? BRAWLING LIKE A COUPLE OF MUGGLE DRUNKARDS!" She regained slight control over herself as the ceiling stopped shaking. "Detention, both of you. Transfiguration room. After school tomorrow." She turned and stalked away.

"We're in for it now..." Harry whispered.

"Bloody hell." Draco hissed snatching his wand back. "This is all your fault, Potter, if you had just given me my fucking wand back decently..."

Harry bristled. "Shut up, Malfoy, it's your fault as well as mine. You should have never said those things if you didn't want me to know."

"Easy for you to say, isn't it, Potter? You've got all these sappy friends who listen to you." Draco shook his head bitterly. "I don't."

~*~*~*

_The Transfiguration room..._

Professor McGongall walked into the room with her face set in stone. With a sinking heart, Harry saw Professor Dumbledore enter behind her. His eyes were confused behind his half-moon spectacles.

Professor McGonagall folded her hands and pursed her lips.

"Harry, Draco, Professor McGonagall has been telling me some very disturbing things." Harry felt a little jolt of surprise when Dumbledore called Malfoy by his first name and not his title.

"Fighting, Albus, would have killed each other if Malfoy hadn't seen me." 

"May I enquire _why_ you were fighting." Harry and Draco both looked down. "I see. It's your choice to keep it to yourselves. I would just like to know whether you intend to do this again?"

Harry cleared his throat. "No, Professor, we're sorry." Draco sent Harry a look that clearly said 'Speak for yourself'.

"Our little problem has been, um, cleared up..." Draco said, his eyes glinting.

"Good. The door to my office is always open. As Seventh Years, I expected you to behave a little more responsibly." Albus looked at each of them piercingly.

"We don't usually give detention to Seventh Years but I am afraid in this case we'll make an exception. I am sure you can deal with it from here, Minerva." He nodded. "Please don't make me have to talk with you again."

He swished out of the room as McGonagall started to speak. "Right, you're going to clean out the Quidditch hoops...without Magic."

Draco groaned wholeheartedly. This just wasn't his day.

---  
|| _The Quidditch Pitch..._

Harry balanced a pail of water precariously on his FireBolt Extra. He started to scrub the grimy hoop hard. It was still quite hot and he was sweating profusely.

He looked around for Draco but couldn't find him. "The bastard's gone!" He said to himself.

"Guess again, Potter!" Harry looked up just in time to see a bucketful of dirty brown water cascade down on him. Draco grinned gleefully. 

"I'll get you for that, Malfoy!" Harry yelled. He had meant it to come out as a threat but it sounded like a good-natured rebuff.

"I'll believe it when I see it, Potter!" Draco shouted, whizzing past him.

Harry held the pail in his hands and started to chase Draco. He sloshed the water at him but only got his back. "Ha, got you there, Malfoy!"

Draco just laughed, dove down and picked up another bucket of water. Harry moved back as he whooshed up.

"Scared, Potter?" He asked, as Harry skeetered backwards. 

"Not on your life, Malfoy!" Harry suddenly zoomed forwards and grabbed the front end of Draco's broom.

In a split-second he pushed it upwards slightly. The bucket Draco was holding fell on him and drenched his hair and face completely.

"Hey, no fair, that water's freezing!" He said, shivering.

"That was what you planned to do to me!" Harry yelled back. Draco picked up a pail half-full with water and threw it at Harry with all his might.

Harry saw it and avoided it easily. "Oh shit..."

The pail had flown past Harry and was aiming for the windows of the team dressing rooms.

Draco and Harry both concentrated on the pail and flew as fast as they could. "McGonagall is gonna kill us."

Harry pushed the FireBolt Extra to it's fullest extent. "It's going too fast!" He yelled at Draco, who was behind him.

Harry outstretched his hand...it was just a few inches behind the handle. Harry and Draco both knew that he wouldn't make it...

"_IMPEDIMENTA!_" Draco shouted. The pail suddenly slowed down and Harry clutched it easily. Draco breathed a sigh of relief.

He looked at the frozen worried look on Harry's face and burst out laughing. A second later, Harry, holding onto the pail for dear life started to laugh as well.

"Thanks, M-..." Harry stopped and considered a moment. "Thanks, Draco. That wasn't so bad"

Draco stopped laughing immediately. His face looked confused. He chewed his lip for a second. _For Hermione, Draco..._

"You weren't so bad yourself, Harry..." Draco said, a little stiffly. They looked at the expressions on each others faces and then burst into helpless laughter.

At a window in Gryffindor tower, Colin Creevey put his Binoculars down, decided that the stress was getting to him and went to bed.

---  
|| _Outside the Gryffindor Tower Entrance_

Hermione was about to climb into the portrait hole when a voice stopped her dead.

"Hermione, I need to talk to you." Harry and Ron turned.

"Malfoy." Ron said, with distaste. "How did you know our common room's over here?" Draco's face clouded over with smugness. "Wouldn't you like to know, Weasley?"

"Hey, stop it!" Harry suddenly stepped in front of them. "I have had enough of this. Draco..." Ron's mouth opened in astonishment. "His name is Ron, and Ron, you'll call Draco by his first name."

Ron looked aghast. "But-..what..." He stopped and glared at Draco, who merely shrugged.

"Fine with me, Hermione, I really need to talk to you." Hermione nodded and followed Draco away from the portrait hole.

"I dunno, Harry...there she goes, talking to the enemy again." Harry laughed. "And why do I have to call Malfoy, Draco?"

"It's enough that we have to deal with Voldemort, Ron. Remember what Dumbledore said, we have to stick together..." Said Harry, thoughtfully. "Besides, he's not so bad."

"Hermione, I'm sorry for what happened- what I did..." Draco looked earnestly at her.

"It's all right Draco, and I'm sorry for being afraid. You got me thinking and you were right. I was afraid, but not any more." She smiled. "What did you do to Harry, enchant him?"

"I honestly don't know...I realised we have a lot in common in the way we are." Draco reached out slowly and took Hermione's hand in his. "The holidays start soon...I'll be going...home, if that's what mine is."

"I'm sorry, Draco." Hermione said, for no particular reason.

"What do Harry and Ron call you for short?"

"Herm, Hermie...it's a stupid name, Hermione." She shook her head.

"I think it's beautiful..." Draco stopped and then smiled. "Do you have a middle name?"

"No, I don't. Just plain Hermione Granger. What about you?" Draco pursed his lips and winced.

"Draco Argentus Valwracen Malfoy." 

"It's a long name...but it suits you." Hermione smiled as Draco's eyes twinkled.

"Instead of calling you what everyone else calls you, I'm going to call you...Mia."

"I'd like that...but what shall I call _you_ Draco?"

"Draco. Nobody calls me that except my parents...and well, you say it _differently_." He looked at the celing. "The Yule Ball is after the Holidays..."

"Yeah, it is..."

"Um, are you still going out with Krum?" He asked, with elaborate casualness.

"No." Hermione sounded hopeful yet apprehensive.

"So, Mia, would you go to the Yule Ball with me?" Except for the depth in his eyes he could have been casually saying hello.

Hermione glanced at him for a second and then broke into a smile. She didn't answer but touched his pale cheek with her hand softly.

She drew him closer and kissed him softly and lingeringly.

Draco's pale countenance flushed slightly. "Um, I can take that as a yes, right?"

---  
|| _At Malfoy Manor..._

Draco regarded the menacing face of Malfoy Manor with something akin to sentimentality. The wind-swept, dark Manor was anciently beautiful. It was more like a castle than a mere Manor. It had housed the Malfoy family for centuries and seemed to pulse with their very essence.

It was not always nice.

Draco muttered the Disarming enchantments on the frontal Arch carefully. To make a mistake would be, literally, fatal. He looked around and surveyed the large estate.

There was a large green snake spouting silver water right in the middle of the grounds. A huge, yawning cliff face fell to the water to the right. Draco shivered. How many people had been killed and tossed off that jagged cliff? Too many. 

The Snake enclosure was behind the house. This was where Draco spent most of his time. Sitting and observing the slithering creatures. The large ornamental wrought silver archway at the front of the house was home to eighteen curses and eight LockSafe heavyduty Magical Locks. 

He pulled on the polished silver bell quickly. It sounded clear and true, contrasting with it's murky surroundings.

Draco glanced at the inscription and shuddered. _Dulce et Decorum est pro imperatori more_. It is just and righteous to die for your Master.

In this case, the Dark Lord. He admired the way that Harry spoke his name. It was a name of fear and hate, the closer you come, the farther you wish you are.

"Master Malfoy, welcome home." 

"Darius, open the other entrance quickly!" He said to the ghost. "Is Lord Malfoy at his residence?" Draco was careful to speak ornately, for Darius was old and used to the old ways.

Besides, living at Malfoy Manor was like living in the old times. The ambience, the people and the ghosts lived in the past.

Till now. Suddenly the Manor had resumed activity, becoming a base for Death Eaters to come and apprise themselves of the latest news.

"No, Master Malfoy, his services were required elsewhere, he departed in haste. Lady Malfoy is resting in her study, she requests your presence." Darius said, opening the door that would only respond to his touch.

_Those Ministry people are so shortsighted. They search what they think is the house, all the while not knowing that it's simply a cover. No Malfoy has ever lived in the Upper Wing. The real house is below ground_. Draco brushed the blond hair out of his eyes impatiently. _I have to tell them about Hermione...they'll find out from Crabbe and Goyle soon, anyway. The whole school will see me with her at the ball._

Draco knocked and quickly entered his mother's chambers. They were decorated in a dark magenta with splashes of the Malfoy silver and green. There was a large banner with the Malfoy insignia of a green Dragon breathing black fire on a silver background. Below was the Malfoy motto.

_Fear is the only true way of control_

"Mum? Are you in here?" Draco called, loudly. Narcissa Malfoy opened the curtains and walked out, smiling.

"Draco dearest!" She exclaimed, pecking him on the cheek. "How are you?"

"Mum, I need to talk to you." Draco glanced at his mother. _I wonder why she even married the git._

"Anything, Draco, you can always turn to me." His mother's face was serious.

"Mum, I'm in love." He stopped. _Here goes._ "With Hermione Granger."

Her face flickered suddenly and her grey eyes turned to steel. Her mouth twisted into a snarl but she suddenly relaxed. "Isn't she that smart girl you were telling me about?" She asked, pleasantly. Draco shook his head. _Must have been imagining it._

"Yeah..." Draco looked at his shoes. "She's not- not a Slytherin...and um, she's not a PureBlood..."

"I see. I don't know if your father will understand. He can be rather...difficult about these things." Narcissa smiled stiffly. "Are you sure about this, Draco?"

Draco looked up, silver fire blazing in his usually icy eyes. "Yes."

---  
|| _Lucius Malfoy's private study..._

"You called me home, Narcissa. You know I have important work." Lucius voice sounded dull and bored.

"Yes, but I have news." Narcissa's face was hard and cold, but her eyes glittered with pain. "Draco told me that he loved the MudBlood."

"_What?_" Lucius face contorted in fury. "He actually _said_ that? Did you deal with him?"

"Yes, and he's asked her to the Yule Ball. I want him to think of me as a friend, you understand. I need to stop his foolishness. The Dark Lord was right about them being in love." Even through his fury, Lucius noted the change in Narcissa's attitude.

"You suddenly care, Narcissa? I always thought you rather friendly with the MudBloods. Not so loyal to the Dark Lord." Narcissa's eyes narrowed.

"I only care for my son, Lucius, don't forget it. The Dark Lord has taken everything away from me, my parents, my brother...everything. All because of a MudBlood."

"What?" Lucius took the oppurtunity to delve into his wife's enigmatic past.

"I loved-...thought I loved a MudBlood once..." Her voice was far away. "And I paid the price. I lost everything dear to me. I will not bow to your Dark Lord and I will most certainly _not_ see my son destroyed because of a MudBlood that will only abandon him after. He has Malfoy Blood- only one of PureBlood can tame his heart."

Lucius teetered between shock and disgust. _His_ Narcissa loved a _MudBlood_.

He banished these thoughts from his head. Draco's error needed to be dealt with. How could he _love_ the Granger girl? She was not correct for a Malfoy. She was not petite, blonde or pixie-featured. She was not a PureBlood.

Lucius stalked to his son's chambers and knocked hard on the door. A second passed before Darius opened it. "Lord Malfoy, Master Draco is currently in his study."

Lucius gave the merest nod, barely acknowledging his servant and pushed the study doors open. Draco looked up, startled.

"Father?" He put down his Quill and stuffed the parchment he had been writing on into the large drawer.

"Come with me, Draco. Now." Lucius twisted Draco's collar and pulled him up. "Move!" Draco knew better than to resist. He followed his father into the Lower Dungeons without a word.

The cold steel and heavy books filled with curses seemed almost gleeful at his arrival. Draco winced as he passed a portrait of his grandfather, laughing crazily. 

Madness was rife in the Malfoy family. Genius, too.

The Cruciatus Curse was developed by one of his ancestors. Many pieces of Dark Magic belonged to the Malfoy family. Old and dangerous, it's power had only increased over the centuries.

Yet the Malfoy's guarded a well kept secret. A secret so deep and hidden that no-one other than Lucius and Draco Malfoy knew it. To even think it would be sacrilege. Those who whispered it had a nasty habit of disappearing.

The Malfoy family was descended from Rowena Ravenclaw. Their middle name, Valwracen, was just a jumble of RavenClaw. In the old times, it was believed that your name lent power to your words of enchantment, so to lose RavenClaw would be to lose power. That, of course, was something no Malfoy would ever do.

His father stopped and regarded his heir. "So, Draco, you have decided to disgrace us, I see you now that you are not a fit heir. You did not outgrow your weak mind and disloyalty." 

Draco did not reply, but glared at his father rebelliously. He knew instinctively what his Father was talking about. "I love her and I don't care." He broke out.

"Hmm...perhaps you need a little reminder to be obedient?" Lucius Malfoy smiled cruelly.

Draco's hands trembled slightly but he did not back down.

Narcissa Malfoy sobbed silently as she heard her husband torturing her only son. "I meant it for your own good, Draco. Please forgive me...I'm sorry." She whispered brokenly. "I should have known it would come to this..."

One thought above all tormented her mind...a remembrance of another such stoic act by another man she loved.

He did not scream.

---  
---


	4. Elastic

**Harry Potter & the Trident's Curse**  
---  
_Dulce et Decorum est pro imperatori more.  
_ |HPTC-Malfoy family motto|  
--- 

**Part 4 -**Elastic

_The Great Hall_

"Draco, they're beautiful...I can't believe that nobody knows how you write!" Hermione exclaimed, handing Draco back his journal. 

"Thanks..." Draco said, his pale cheeks reddening. "That's the only thing that I really love to do...write, and to read. Father actually encouraged it."

"Even Muggle books?"

"Uh huh...you know, I like Shakespeare and Richard Bach the best..."

"I never really thought you were the type..." Hermione laughed.

"Mia, I'm going to tell you a secret." Hermione's face turned serious. "The Malfoy family isn't descended from Salazar Slytherin...we're descended from Rowena Ravenclaw."

Hermione gasped. "But you don't look it...at all..."

"No, we've tried hard as we could to purge our family of impure blood. Outwardly, we've succeeded." Hermione smiled and then her expression darkened. "You never told me how your family took it." It was obvious what she meant by 'it'. 

"Father didn't like it very much...but he doesn't seem to be doing anything else to dissuade me." Draco winced uncomfortably. "If he had really wanted, he could have put a curse on you or something and he didn't..."

"And you're afraid that he's got something else in mind?" Draco nodded. "Let's just hope he doesn't care."

"Fell hope." Draco sighed. "What are you going to do, you know, when you graduate?"

"What choice do I have? Every person must fight Voldemort." Draco grimaced and Hermione laughed. "Say it, Draco, say it, come on!"

"Fine, I will! Voldemort, Voldemort, _Voldemort_! Satisfied?" Hermione patted his cheek.

"You're sweet when you're upset! Anyway, what will you do?"

"No idea. Before I met you I would probably have joined the Dar- _Voldemort's_ following...but you changed my mind about Mud-, um, Muggle borns." Draco said, quailing under Hermione's stare.

"But I'm not exactly a great fan of Dumbledore, either...anyhow, didn't he say we'd be inviting some other schools for the Yule Ball?" Hermione bit her lip.

"Durmstrang, Beauxbatons and another one, what's it called again, Wyndelinn." Draco laughed.

"Afraid Krum's going to try and claim you at the Ball?" 

"Does is show?" Hermione pretended to look worried. "Anyhow, he's going out with Feline Giegerich, now isn't he?"

"The German Keeper." Draco nodded. "I know a few people from Wyndelinn...Frank Wicker for one. He's one of Father's friend's sons. They call him Scorpio." Draco glanced at Hermione. "He's not exactly a friend of the Mud-Muggle Borns. Loads of fun, though..." 

"You and your evil friends!" Hermione sighed in exasperation. "I'm never going to reform you!"

"Is that what you want, a nice Draco Malfoy?" Draco grinned.

Hermione sighed loudly. "That's impossible, even for me."

---  
|| _The Slytherin Dormitory_

Draco sat down at his desk, confused but not unhappy. He was assessing his relationship with Hermione Granger.

_We're like good friends, only...more..._ Draco sighed loudly. None of his other girlfriends had been his friends, too.

That made them easier to dump, easier not to care about.

Girls had always flocked to Draco Malfoy, either for his power, or his handsome Malfoy looks. Hermione Granger had not.

Draco suddenly laughed as he remembered the first time he had felt a slight stirring for her. The time when she slapped him across the face. Draco could still remember the embarrassment that burned like fire in his face.

The only person ever to slap him. He had been hit, beaten within an inch of his life, but never, never slapped. The only girl that could ever do something like that. 

The only one who had even come close was Parry. She was a truly fearsome girl, never afraid of him. Three or four years older than him, she had threatened to curse him if he ever dumped her. Parry. Draco shuddered inwardly.

He knew that her name would be known widely soon. She held power, raw, mesmerising power to control. He had succumbed. Succumbed so well that she actually started feeling for him. 

If she didn't care for him it would be so much simpler. She wouldn't even bother to become his enemy. The trouble was, she did and she would be truly fearsome. If he crossed her. If he didn't love her back.

Draco remembered his father's parting words; they were perhaps the most affectionate ever addressed to him.

_"Draco, listen to me. There is a Great War coming. The largest war in Wizard History. The Dark Lord is powerful, I hope you do not end up on the wrong side. She is just a girl. They're not worth it. You have no hope. There is no honour in losing."_

Draco was jerked from his thoughts by an owl arriving. "Aurum." Draco said with surprise, not patting the so named feathered head.

He tore the parchment from the sharp talons and put a few coins into the birds' claws. He looked at Draco for a few seconds and then emitted a loud shriek.

"What do you want, Aurum?" Draco asked, bewildered. Aurum screeched again, but instead of waiting flew off in exasperation.

Draco didn't understand that all the owl wanted was to be patted.

He unrolled the parchment.

_ Dearest Draco,_

I know you and your father don't get along with me too well, but I have been hearing things that cause me to contact you quickly.

It has reached my distant ears that a fearsome change is overtaking the Malfoy Dragon. They say you are with a Muggle Born and consort with Harry Potter and his friends. They say you do not take interest in your Dark Arts studies any more and neglect your Slytherin friends.

Be this all true, Draco, I congratulate you. One is required to stand up for oneself.

I know I have been forced upon you but perhaps now we could be friends. Perhaps now you understand why I hate your father. I think it impossible for it to be otherwise. I don't see any reason for us to hate each other.

It is a time of great need, Draco, and I need your help. Unless I am mistaken you need mine, too. Do not be discouraged by your so-called friends.

Make the judgements your own and you cannot fail.

I wish to visit you at Hogwarts, please convey your reply to me soon.

I must warn you of the War coming. Hogwarts will be the base of operations. You must have heard of it. What will your decision be?

My experiments have come to a head and I believe that a great breakthrough is at hand. Flamel never went as far.

Hopefully yours with love,

Celeste LaSeule

Draco let the letter flutter to the floor.

Celeste...after all this time?

He tore a piece of parchment from his role, wrote three short words on it and signed his name.

Anticipate your arrival.

Draco Malfoy ---  
|| _The Gryffindor Dormitory..._

Hermione lay in her bed, restless...she got up and heaved open the window. The cold air lashed her face, creating reddish streaks across her bare cheeks. Her lungs refused to take in the frost-laden air and she closed the window with a soft bang.

Nobody had awoken, they were dreaming peacefully of the coming Ball.

Unfortunately, that was what kept Hermione Granger awake.

Even if Draco really did love her, where would their relationship go? What did Draco expect? She simply didn't know. And, as if to complicate matters, Ron had taken to ignoring her haughtily. Jealous. Jealousy is a powerful thing, she knew.

Capable of twisting even the best intentions to it's wily purposes.

She sighed loudly and touched the purple robes that she had bought especially for the dance.

"Once again, you prove yourself a nocturnal creature." Hermione whirled.

"Sylvoren, you scared me!" Hermione whispered.

"Gotten over Malfoy yet?"

Hermione cocked her head. "He asked me to the Yule Ball. I'm going with him."

"It won't be easy." Sylvoren Trelawney's expression was unreadable in the darkness.

"I know."

"No good can ever come of an union of silver and gold." She said, obliquely, as if quoting from a text.

"How would _you_ know?" Hermione demanded, unsettled.

"You forget, I'm a Divinator. My speciality is personal futures."

"Bullshit."

"I am better than my sham of a mother. Do you know, You-Know-Who made the same mistake. He fell to the curse."

"Curse? What curse?" Sylvoren covered her mouth.

"Magic Undone! I let that slip, I can't tell, I'm bound." Hermione laughed derisively.

"Once again, bullshit."

"It doesn't matter. Does he love you?"

"Yes." Hermione was sure of it. "He loves me."

"Do you love him?"

Sylvoren wished that she could have seen Hermione's face as she said, "Yes."

---  
|| _At the very same dark wood somewhere in England..._

"Lucius, Lucius, Lucius..." The voice of the dark lord was faintly mocking. "You are _most_ impatient."

"I am sorry, my Lord, I thought it would be best if my son was punished." He bowed his head low, remembering the punishment for pride.

"Do you not know that the more you forbid, the more tempting the forbidden becomes? At that age, even a crush is undying love. It will, however, die." He laughed his cold, eerie laugh.

"But my Lord, my position-...my family name, it-..."

"It is nothing! _Nothing_ compared to my Plan, Lucius. A Wizard War is brewing and we must not make an enemy of your little traitor." Voldemort's red eyes gleamed. "A War of Mages unlike any other..."

"But-..."

"But nothing, Lucius. Your family name was soiled beyond repair when you married your Narcissa...for she was not yours from the start, she belonged to a MudBlood before. What your weakling heir has done is no worse." Lucius Malfoy shuddered slightly, _Was her child a MudBlood? Shame enough to have married an used woman, but with a MudBlood?_ Lucius mind whirled.

"Besides, your son has powers which you cannot imagine. It would not be prudent to alienate him. Already the Muggle-loving fools, Dumbledore and Harry Potter..." He spit his name out like a bitter taste. "...have amassed an army, unequalled apart from my own."

"Why is an army required, my Lord, pardon my incomprehension." Lord Voldemort looked at Lucius Malfoy with distaste.

"Have you not been schooled properly? Are you ignorant? Surely you know the fundamental rules of Wizarding. The first one, at least."

"Yes, master. Magic per unit area."

"And you must also know that because of the increase in the Wizarding population, more residual magic is free in the world? Mage Wars, spell wars, were possible, but are no more so. An excess of magic in the battle area will cause an overload, especially since powerful magic is needed for the TimeFreeze. Our spells will either become useless or absorb too much power to master. This is because magic attracts magic." The Dark Lord spoke slowly, as if to a moron.

"Forgive me, master, I see it now."

"Of course you do. Back to the matter of your Gryffindor sympathising brat, do nothing more. I will send my loyal emissary to deliver him a message." He stopped suddenly and smiled at Lucius. "Time, Lucius, is on our side."

---  
|| _The Great Hall, the Yule Ball is taking place..._

Draco turned and looked at Hermione again. She was so different, all dressed up. She was wearing robes of deep purple with a thin silvery sheath. Jewels glittered in her Sleekeazy'd hair. Her face seemed to glow from within. She turned.

He couldn't get over how she looked. Draco felt like his eyes had been opened to a new conception of beauty. Before he had only looked for the classic Slytherin ice, now he could see that warmth could be attractive as well.

"Ready, Draco? They're not going to take this well, you know."

Draco didn't reply, but instead steeled himself for the task ahead. He could almost hear the taunts of his Slytherin 'friends'. It meant complete ostracisation from the society that he had once thought superior to all. A society that he still enjoyed, even.

_For Hermione._

They walked down the steps into the glimmering red and green hall hand in hand. Draco spotted Harry and Cho Chang up ahead.

"Hey, isn't that Po-, Harry and Chang?" Hermione nodded. "How come people who play Quidditch always go out with people that play Quidditch?"

"_You_ don't, Draco." Hermione said, playfully.

"Well, I'm different, aren't I?" Draco stopped as a kind of palpable silence descended on the hall.

Every single pair of eyes was upon them. Professor McGonagall tried to hide her look of surprise ineffectually while Professor Snape's face seemed twisted in a pained snarl. Of all the teachers only Professor Dumbledore's face seemed benign, only a mild trace of surprise in his eyes.

Draco shuddered and looked away from Dumbledore's penetrating glance. _He's always trying to look inside me._ Draco thought, angrily. _And I won't bare my soul to him. Just because he's the great Albus Dumbledore._

Hermione tightened her grip on Draco's hand as she maintained a steady gait towards Harry and Ron's table. As they passed the jeering Slytherins Hermione tightened her hand further, as if afraid that he would break away from her grasp. Leave and go back to his old world.

But Draco kept his eyes straight ahead. He pretended not to hear the hissed words of scorn directed at him. _My life, my choice _my_ destiny._ He tried to tell himself he didn't care.

He pushed the side of himself that pulled him towards the Slytherin table away. Each step he took seemed like stretching an elastic band. The farther he went, the stronger it pulled him back.

Hermione looked at Draco with a veiled sadness in her eyes. _He wants to go back...I can see it in his face. Why do I care? Do I care? I care._

"You look really handsome tonight...I remember the Yule Ball in Grade Four, Harry said your dress robes made you look like a vicar!" Hermione smothered a giggle.

"A _what_?"

"A vicar, a kind of priest...you don't look like that now." Draco glanced at his new robes with a faint touch of pride.

"Of course not, they're custom-designed by Gucci." Hermione laughed outright.

"But they're _robes_!"

"Ah, Mia, people that rely on the rich rarely question the rich." Draco drew out a chair next to Harry and motioned for Hermione to be seated.

As Draco sat down next to her, the noise level of the great hall went back up to normal. Cho Chang seemed about to make a remark but held her tongue. Ron glared daggers at Draco.

"Hey Draco, that's Padma Patil from RavenClaw, Ron's date, and I think you know everyone else." Harry said, trying to ease the tension in the air.

"Uh huh, so Cho, how's Quidditch?"

"Pretty good, you only just scraped up enough points to win last game. Don't count on it happening next time." Cho smiled unreservedly. "The game's in the Seeker."

"Oh, Magic Forbid, three Seekers at one table, there's only going to be Quidditch tonight!" Hermione exclaimed. 

"Don't count on it, would you like to dance, Mia?" Hermione nodded and she and Draco glided gracefully to the dance floor.

He took her hand gently and placed his hand on her waist. There was a prickling tension in the air, a shortness of breath. A slow song started mournfully. Draco danced with the elegance of one born to aristocracy.

"Honestly, Harry, there's something I just don't like about Malfoy." Ron said, glaring at the closely twisted couple.

"Leave it Ron, it-..." Harry was interrupted.

"'arry! It az been a long time, do you still remembair me?" Fleur Delacour's mellifluous tones cut in. Her looks had grown yet more Veela like since they had met.

"Fleur! How are you doing..." Harry said, sounding bored. Fleur looked at Harry strangely.

"Oh, am fine...I 'ave a job teaching in America...allo Ron...I do not know you uzzers..." Ron blushed and murmured his reply. Padma was sure he hadn't gotten over her.

_First Hermione and now Delacour, I don't know why he keeps asking me out._ Padma thought, unhappily.

"This is Cho Chang and that's Padma Patil." This time, Cho made no move to say hello. Padma smiled weakly. Fleur nodded, no love lost.

"'Ow iz your bruzzer Ron?"

"Oh, fine, Fleur, great." Ron's ears were beet red. Fleur smiled and turned back to Harry. "Oh, 'arry, 'ave you met Damien, my fiance!?" Fleur motioned to a tall, fine-featured blond a few tables away. He came up to them and smiled at Fleur in a hangdog fashion.

"Congratulations!" Cho said, quickly, with a bright smile. "Would you like to sit with us? There's place for two more."

"I am sorry, we already 'ave promised Viktor to sit wiz 'im, for apology, you remembair he cursed me at ze Triwizard Tournament. Zee you later!" She smiled and strode off with Damien behind her.

Draco and Hermione returned, flushed from dancing.

"Draco Malfoy! I've been looking for you." A tall girl with light-green eyes touched his shoulder. She was not strictly pretty, but her eyes glinted in an exotic way and her whole stance belayed surety and power.

Draco blanched but recovered quickly.

"Parry, it's been a long time, what are you doing here?"

She smiled alluringly. "Oh, you'll see soon enough."

"Ah, Parry, may I introduce Hermione Granger, my date." Parry's eyes narrowed and her icy face turned hard and brittle. The whole table felt a chill. "Cho Chang, Padma Patil, Ron Weasley, and uh, Harry Potter." Draco hurried on quickly, knowing Harry's name would provoke a reaction. "Everyone, this is Countess Parthenope Czyren, ."

"The word's been out that you've changed...but you can't change blood." Parthenope said, without batting an eyelid. Hardly anyone ever remembered her words, just her voice, so beckoning... "I have to leave, see you-...you _all_, later." She turned and walked away slowly, turning back to give Draco a lingering glance.

"Who's she?" Hermione crossed her arms and tried to look amused.

"Oh, just a family friend, you know the deal..." Draco said, a trifle snappishly. Hermione glared at him. "Oh fine, she's an old girlfriend."

"Uh huh..._and_?"

"She's not exactly a passive person...she tried to curse the girl I went out with after-..."

Hermione was spared having to hear about Draco's next makeout partner because a melodious and melancholy voice invaded the room. The sound was rich and pure, weighed down by sadness.

Hermione glanced at the stage. "Parthenope." She said with an air of resignation. Draco did not look surprised, but agitated.

He glanced around and seemed to be looking for an escape.

Like with the Veela's dancing, the room was entranced, lulled by this all pervasive song. But the singer seemed to be singing only for one person. Only for Draco Malfoy.

Draco touched Hermione's arm. "Let's go for a walk. Her singing isn't safe." She nodded reluctantly as they rose silently and, with a wrench, left the haunting noise. Like a banshee's soft wails, it followed them out of the corridor and all the way outside. Berating, blaming and chastising them for leaving it's all protecting embrace.

Draco glanced uncertainly at Hermione's face. He had told her the words before. He would not make that mistake again. He would not scare her. Hermione glanced up quickly, as if reading his thoughts.

"You don't scare me any more."

"Are you telepathic or something?" Draco snapped, unnerved.

"Took an extra course last year." She reminded him. 

"Well, cut it out, I like my thoughts private."

"I could only do that if you wanted me to. You wanted me to hear it."

"But I didn't say it!"

"Sorry...and I'm sorry for being a complete coward, before, you know."

"I don't blame you."

"I love you, Draco Malfoy." Draco stopped abruptly and touched Hermione's chin, tilting her face upwards, towards him. His face was intense.

"I love you, Hermione Granger." Hermione tried not to shudder when she looked into his icy eyes.

He bent down and kissed her gently at first, but more passionately, lingeringly... They finally drew apart and he touched her hair softly.

She opened her mouth but instead of words a shrill, terror-laden scream was wrenched from her lips.

Inside the hall, Parthenope Czyren finished warbling her last note. The suddenly ugly silence was rent by a blood-curdling, penetrating scream.

For a second, time seemed to stop, people froze in their seats, the orchestra hung on their last note.

Then suddenly, time caught up with a shove, Dumbledore leapt to his feet, followed closely by McGonagall and Snape. The Prefects stood up and tried to calm the nervous, scared crowd.

"Harry, didn't that sound like-...?"

"Hermione." Harry affirmed, his heart sinking horribly.

"I told you that Malfoy was up to no good." Ron said fiercely, leaping to his feet. "I'm going to find her."

"Me too." Harry jumped up and followed him without a thought, leaving Cho and Padma to glare confusedly after them.

"It's always _her_ first!" Cho said, savagely.

Outside Dumbledore stopped suddenly on the edge of the forest. Obscuring the pale moon was a giant, outstretched wing. Incredulously, he followed the wing to the proportionately impossibly small and black-scaled object suspended in the sky. Its skin seemed to absorb the light around it rather than reflect. Only it's red eyes were visible.

"Blacknight." he said, simply. Behind him, the blood drained from both Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape's faces.

Blacknight, a name whispered with almost the same amount of frightened submission as You-Know-Who's name commanded. Living Fear. Voldemort's emissary, his Watcher and guard. Voldemort's messenger.

The Dragon Blacknight.

Another shrill scream sounded from the thicket beneath its red-green stare. Suddenly, Dumbledore saw Draco emerge from the bushes behind, he paused and pulled Hermione into the clearing. The daemondragon let loose a roar of rage and flew after them. 

Draco seized Hermione's hand. "Run." They ran in the opposite direction from the dragon, straight into the Forbidden Forest. The teachers tried to follow, but the Dragon landed in front of them, daring them, willing them to move. It's nostrils flared with anticipation.

Harry and Ron burst out of the Great archway. 

"_Accio FireBolt!_" Harry yelled, instantly. Within a second, his FireBolt zoomed to him out of the darkness. He said a silent prayer of thanks to Hermione for teaching him the Summoning Charms. Ron jumped on behind him. 

_It's just the Hungarian Horntail, nothing else...it's going to be easy. It's not Blacknight...CONCENTRATE, Harry!_ Harry told himself, hoping silently as he evaded the malicious flames. A huge wing cascaded almost upon them, Harry merely zipped under it and evaded the whip-like tail as it lashed out at him in the gloom.

Instead of guarding the teachers Blacknight suddenly turned around, and in a gust of hot, firesparked wind, blew Harry and Ron off the broomstick. They hit a huge Evergreen tree with a sick thud.

"Harry!" Hermione screamed, as she saw him fall. Blacknight's eyes flicked toward her.

For a mortal instant, woman and daemon stared into each others' eyes. A queer discomfiture afflicted Hermione and she glanced away, breaking the thread. The Dragon's eyes had an indescribable human quality to them. With another battle-roar, the Dragon folded its great wings and seemed to shrink.

Draco thrust out an arm, placing himself between Hermione and Blacknight. He had left his wand in the Dormitory. The dragon drew in a long breath and started to lean closer.

It was obvious that in a second they'd be nothing but ashes. _Ashes to ashes, dust to dust._ Draco heard himself thinking. _This isn't the time for that Draco. You aren't going to die. You and Hermione are going to live. You're going to live._

Draco felt Hermione trembling behind him, clutching his shoulder. He willed his hands to stop shaking but they disobeyed his mind.

_Please, just please, help...don't let Hermione die, don't let me die! I don't want to die!_

Draco was on the edge of desperation, hysteria gnawed at the periphery of his senses. The Dragon was only discernible from the darkness around by a faint sheen.

An unearthly calm came upon him.

The dragon started to spew out the red-white flames.

---  
---


	5. The Dragonstaff

**Harry Potter & the Trident's Curse**  
---  
_Purity stands alone.  
_ |HPTC-Tom Marvolo Riddle|  
--- 

**Part 5-**The Dragonstaff

_The Forbidden Forest..._

The dragon started to spew out the red white flames.

_No, no...please, HELP!_ Draco's mind screamed, as he jerked out of his trance-like state.

For a second, time slowed down. Draco saw a blinding flash of light right in front of him, the great Dragon roared and shrunk away from the light. It died down for a second so that Draco could see the source. A carved blue-silver crystal staff was suspended in front of him in midair. 

Without thinking, almost instinctively, Draco closed his fingers around the gnarled surface. Another burst of light exploded from the staff. Draco felt the same warm sensation of butterbeer coursing through his body, but magnified. The staff felt a part of his mind and his body.

Like an inky snake, a green band twisted around the blue crystal. Draco looked up at the Dragon. It seemed confused and almost afraid. It let loose a bellow of defeat and rose into the air with quick beats of it's wing.

Draco breathed a sigh of relief. He turned, suddenly aware of Hermione behind him. "Are you alright?"

Her face was a mixture of curiosity and fear as she nodded yes. Her eyes were tremulous and on the verge of tears. Draco squeezed her shoulder and hugged her tightly.

Dumbledore was kneeling beside Ron, muttering an energy spell. His eyes jerked open and he sat up. "Professor Dumbledore! Hermione..?"

"Is quite all right, thanks to young Draco there." The look of suspicion did not leave Ron's eyes. Beside him, Harry awoke with a groan.

He looked around quickly and jumped to his feet. 

"There's something queer about that Dragon...I know, I saw it." Hermione whispered. Harry glanced at Dumbledore and he nodded.

Harry took a deep breath. "Blacknight isn't an ordinary Dragon. You see, once Dementors suck out the souls of people, the souls change...a lot. The Dementors have no use for them so they transfer them into a living host-slave." Harry stopped. Utter shocked silence prevailed. "Blacknight is an host...but, Professor Dumbledore, what's it doing here?" He demanded, unnerved.

He could still remember the first time they had come face to face. How he learned the Dragon's secret and felt dangerously sorry for it. 

"I do not know for sure, Harry, but I think it has something to do with Draco and Hermione." Dumbledore said, thoughtfully, looking at Draco's staff.

As he said the words, Professor McGonagall accosted Draco and Hermione. "Hermione, are you all right?" She asked, quickly brushing her down.

"Fine, Professor, really." Professor McGonagall and she had become quite close during the past year.

"And how about you, ahem, Malfoy?" She said, with an effort.

"I'm all right, thanks." He said, without thinking who he was talking to. The Professor looked surprised at the lack of scorn in his voice.

"Very lucky, too, Draco. I thought I might be of help, but I see that is not needed." A voice as powerful as Parthenope's but completely different spoke. There was intelligence, and not power behind the words.

"Celeste, you've come at an eventful time." Draco said, as the red robed visitor came into the light cast by Snape's wand. The face was pretty in a pointed sort of way, a fiery intelligence flickered in her grey eyes. She dropped her hood and shook out her short, shiny black hair.

She came to Draco and kissed him on the cheek quickly. He looked surprised and somewhat embarrassed.

"Ah, we have many unexpected visitors tonight, I see." Snape said, regarding Celeste with distaste. "Celeste." He said, nodding to her ungraciously.

"Celeste!" The difference in tone was jarring. "I see you've arrived early."

"Yes, Albus, I'm sorry about that." Dumbledore waved it off.

"What _I_ am interested in, is Draco's staff." He said, turning to it. "May I have a look at it, Draco."

"Certainly." He said, completely uncertainly. He handed it to Dumbledore gently, feeling suddenly defenceless.

Dumbledore hefted it in his hand and his eyes widened. He ran his fingers over the silver and bronze dragons on the head. He cleared his throat and handed the staff back to Draco. "No doubt about it, this is RavenClaw's staff."

The assemblage gasped as one. Draco suddenly laughed. "But that's impossible!"

"Oh no, see for yourself." Albus showed him the almost invisible bronze inlay saying _RavenClaw_ just below the head of the staff.

"But..." Draco said miserably. "But that would mean that I'm-...RavenClaw's heir..." 

"No!" Exclaimed Celeste and Hermione together. Celeste closed her mouth and let Hermione explain.

"The Dragon Staff, known popularly as RavenClaw's staff because she wielded it, is well known. It has only been wielded by witches and wizards of great power and destiny, High Wizards. The staff exerts it's power over Dragons of all kinds and enables a kind of telepathy with Dragons." Hermione stopped and hesitated. "The person who wields it usually rides the Queen Dragon at the time. It's a matriarchal system."

"But how did I get chosen? And why now?" Draco gripped the staff more tightly.

"The staff chooses you and it comes to the Chosen One at a time of great need. Like when you were about to get burnt to a crisp." Celeste said, smiling wryly as Hermione grimaced.

Snape opened his mouth to say something when suddenly, a noise of beating wings emerged. "What?"

"I believe that's Draco's new steed." Dumbledore said as a large white Dragon came into view. Her spikes were dark green and she had eyes of the same colour. Her wings gleamed a dull gold and she exuded regality.

She touched down gracefully and bowed her head towards Draco. He took a step back, dumbfounded.

***_Greetings wielder of the staff. Draco Malfoy. Whoever named you knew your destiny._***

"What?" Draco glanced around and spoke to the Dragon. "Are you speaking?" 

***_Telepathy, wielder of the staff. It will take some time to get used to._***

"Draco, we'll leave you to get accquainted." Dumbledore said softly. Draco nodded quickly.

*_My name is Draco. Use it. What's yours?_* He concentrated on the words.

***_Dragon names are too long for mortals. You may call me Alyewn, Draco. Would you like to mount, do not be afraid._***

Draco stepped forward hesitantly. Alyewn lowered a glittering wing to the ground. She flexed it slightly and step-like grooves appeared. Draco climbed up easily and straddled in front of the wing joint.

***_Remember, Draco, I'm not a broom. I just need you to guide me to do what you want._***

*_I'll try, Alyewn._* He took a deep breath and dug his heels in slightly. Alyewn responded immediately.

With a beat of her great wings and a mighty roar, she rose into the air. Draco gulped and looked down. All semblance of a dance had disappeared, the whole school stood gawking at the dragon.

*_Hey Alyewn, I've got this girl I want to impress...couldya give her a ride?_*

Alyewn didn't answer but Draco could sense a sort of amused acceptance of his request. He squeezed the scales he was gripping instinctively and the Dragon banked sharply. She dove for the ground with immense speed.

Draco was so close to the crowd that he heard their gasps of astonishment. At the last moment he dug his heels in and squeezed his right hand. Alyewn landed easily.

*_**Not bad, Draco.**_*

_Not bad yourself, Alyewn._ He jumped off easily and brushed his hair back.

With a calculated ease and swagger he walked jauntily to the amazed spectators but looked only at Hermione.

"Wanna ride?"

~*~*~*

_Malfoy Manor, the living room..._

Narcissa and Lucius sat by the roaring fire. It had been charmed to glow green instead of red. Narcissa glared into it, a premonitory fear running through her. She knew what was to come. A curse, rather than blessing, to be born a Seer.

Especially when all there is to See is hatred.

The fireplace flickered and a hooded figure appeared in it. Lucius jumped to his feet but Narcissa remained seated.

"My Lord." He said, bowing low.

Dark Lord laughed. "Don't bow to a mere reflection Lucius. Narcissa, how are you?"

"I am steady as always." She replied her voice frosty and edged with insolence.

"Narcissa! I forbid-..."

"Leave her be, Lucius." His masters face was serious. "Your son has finally discovered one of his talents." Narcissa smiled.

It felt queer, she was unused to the pull of her facial muscles. She relaxed them quickly.

"Narcissa, of course, the Great Seer, knows what I am talking about. He is the new Wielder of the Dragonstaff."

Lucius gaped for a second and then spoke hoarsely. "_One_ of his talents, my Lord?"

"Yes, Lucius. Another talent he has not yet tapped is that of his eyes. Quite _hypnotic_, actually. I require you by my side, Lucius. Now." The Dark Lord's face flickered for a second and was then consumed by the vermillion flames.

Lucius straightened his robes quickly and lifted his wand. Suddenly, he seemed to change his mind. "Narcissa, he said you knew of Draco's talents."

"I am a Seer, Lucius."

"Ah. Well, you needn't wait for me tonight." Narcissa Malfoy nodded as Lucius Disapparated, leaving her alone.

Narcissa sighed and stoked the fire disconsolately. Lately she had had too much time on her hands, Lucius had been away at his meetings with increasing frequency. More time, more reminiscing...more regret. A lifetime of regret.

The fire suddenly flickered again. "Narcissa."

"Voldemort." 

"It always amazes me, Narcissa. _You_ always amaze me. I offered you a chance by my side." The Dark Lord shook his head in disbelief.

"You asked after you took, Voldemort. It doesn't work that way. Not with me. I had nothing to lose." Shadows played on Narcissa's face, her eyes gleamed ever more grey.

"You have much to lose now. Your son, your husband..." The voice was cruel, filled with glee.

"The husband you chose, Voldemort. The heir you wished me bear."

"The first one...Narcissa, was the first one mine? Was it my child?" There was a curious note of pleading in Voldemort's voice.

"Do _you_ think so?" Narcissa replied, with harsh amusement.

"God damn you, Narcissa!" Lord Voldemort said, reverting to his Muggle upbringing. "You fucking enjoy this, don't you? Magic Undone, what I can do has no rival in your cruelty! It's pure torture, Narcissa."

"You deserve it."

"One day I will kill you, Narcissa."

"I never doubted it." The face flickered, and with one last snarl, was gone.

The hardness on her face suddenly melted away, and tears began to silently course down her face. Crystalline tears, glittering green in the firelight. Tears weighted not only by sadness, but by hatred, rage, regret and frustration.

_Life, _she thought bitterly, _is the ultimate torture._

Narcissa hadn't started out with a tough life. She had been born to a wealthy PureBlood and a Veela. Charm and grace came as naturally as breathing to her. Impulsiveness and cruelty did also. She hadn't gone to Hogwarts, but had private tuitions by strictly lady teachers. Her Veela charm was too much for the masculine half of the population.

Her father finally allowed her to go to a Dance. Not just any dance, but the Yule Ball at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There she met two young men unlike any other she had before. One with charcoal black hair, one with the blondest iridescence. One as cold as the other warm.

Sirius Black and Lucius Malfoy.

She had never been attracted to Lucius. He was merely a year older than her, whereas Sirius was at least five. He was a teacher's aide. She could still remember her first dance with him. His softest touch, his breath on her cheek and his voice whispering in her ear.

It had been easy. He was completely in love with her.

_And I? I was completely in love with him too._ Narcissa squeezed her eyes shut. 

But then she met a completely different man. A wizard as yet emerging into power. The Dark Lord Voldemort. She had feared him more terribly than the rest for she could see his strength. She could see the hatred within him.

She could remember the fateful day as if it were still happening to her. The air was unnaturally crisp and tense. Sirius had proposed to her. The cold metal of the engagement ring still chilled her. That night the Dark Lord came for her.

It wasn't any use screaming or struggling. He told her that she was perfect, that he needed a consort of beauty and with power. She had both, but she refused. He had taken her anyway, forcibly. 

Tears jerked into Narcissa's eyes. 

Two weeks later she found had become pregnant. Voldemort had demanded to know whether the child was his. She had not breathed a word to him. She loved Sirius too much to let him be involved. He never knew if the child was his either.

The Dark Lord chose her a suitable husband for propriety's sake. One close to him, where the child could be observed. The Dark Lord thought that he could recognise whose child it was once the birth had taken place. Especially by the eyes. He was wrong.

The babe was born with licks of black hair. She opened her eyes. They were slate grey.

And Narcissa had smiled.

---  
|| _Meanwhile, at Lord Voldemort's headquarters..._

Lucius Apparated to the predetermined area instantly, to find it deserted. He could hear the Dark Lord inside but had better sense than to go find him.

Lucius eyes widened in surprise. That was his master..._yelling_. The Dark Lord never, ever lost his temper. That was his greatest asset, the cold, calculating veneer that hid his rage and made it all the more menacing.

The door creaked open and slammed behind Lord Voldemort. His hair was dishevelled and his skin clammy, he looked almost human.

"Lucius." He said, his voice squeaking slightly. He brushed back his hair and cleared his throat. "Lucius..." He said, in his usual hiss.

"I came as soon as I could, my Lord."

"Of course you did. Now, the MudBlood was also with your Draco. They were dancing. The perfect oppertunity came when they decided to go for a walk. My emissary ambushed them but that cursed Potter and Dumbledore were there as well...and then on course we have the matter of the staff." Voldemort touched his chin thoughtfully.

"The boy has already recieved his steed. The Queen Dragon Alyewn. He is much too powerful to frighten now...but his girlfriend...she is another matter."

"Lord, if I'm not too forward, _how_ did you recieve this information so quickly?" Lucius looked down.

Voldemort laughed. "My spy and follower, I think you know her Lucius, Countess Parthenope Czyren." Lucius gasped.

"Draco's old girlfriend?!" 

"Ah, yes, unfortunately, she still has feelings for him. She and I have come to an agreement of sorts...Granger goes out of the picture and she's on my side."

"But my Lord, surely such a child has little power?"

His Master smiled. "Oh no, she has great power, Lucius. Her voice is as 'special' as your son's gaze is. She has a special connection with the dead."

"But that is unimportant, let us deliver a message to the MudBlood, Lucius. A very _personal_ message." 

---  
|| _The Slytherin Common Room..._

Draco walked into the Slytherin Common Room holding his staff. Hagrid had, in a happy daze, showed him where to keep Alyewn. The room was silent.

"That was _so_ cool!" One first year piped up and suddenly people started clapping him on the back and congratulating him.

"Wow, Draco, I didn't know you rode..." Drusyll Zeltriste said. She had talked to Draco before, but very snobbishly. "You're great..."

Draco smiled knowingly at her. She was very beautiful, long black hair and pixie like features. "Well, there are a lot of things about me that people don't know..." He said, mysteriously.

"Oh, like the fact that you prefer Scarface, Weasel and the MudBlood over proper Slytherin PureBloods?" Pansy Parkinson snapped. She, Crabbe and Goyle stood in a group.

"Lay _off_, Pansy. Blood doesn't mean a damn thing and you know it." Darrel Raine, a quiet seventh year that Draco hadn't paid much attention to spoke up. "_You're_ a PureBlood, but half the Muggle Borns in this school get better grades than you."

Pansy's face twisted into a snarl. Draco suddenly laughed.

"You know Pansy, you really look ugly when you're angry." He turned on his heel and walked into his dorm. He heard footsteps on the cold flagstone behind him and stopped.

"You alright, Draco?"

"Raine- Darrel, thanks." Draco said, awkwardly.

"Anytime. Slytherins have to stick together, regardless of Blood."

"Yeah." _People, Darrel, people, have to stick together._ Draco thought dully. "I've got a splitting headache, I'm going to go lie down, okay?"

"Sure Draco, see you around." Darrel left the room and Draco sat heavily on his bed.

The moment his head touched the soft pillow, he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

_Draco tried to open the barred door, but it was sealed shut. He banged on it hard, but it still wouldn't open. He sighed in frustration and stopped. With a low groan, the door swung open, plunging him into the familiar darkness._

"Mia?" He called. He saw the glints of her eyes and she was there. Slowly, the darkness ebbed away, leaving a gentle rosy light. She turned and smiled.

"Draco." 

"You can talk!" He exclaimed, surprised. 

"I can now. What do you want here? I've given you all the guidance allowed." She stopped and looked down.

"Are you real?"

"Yes, Draco, I'm very real. I'm from the future, well, _one_ of your futures." Her fingers shook slightly. "The future we chose."

"Where am I? Aren't I with you?" Hermione touched his cheek gently.

"I can't tell you any more. It's not allowed. Sylvoren was kind just allowing this much. You can't call on me any more. It's your life now. You can choose this future or another."

A thought struck him and he swallowed. "Am I-...am I _dead_?"

Hermione tried to hold back tears. "I'm sorry." She whispered.

"But that means I'm going to die soon...I mean, you're so young..." She smiled bitterly.

"Don't believe all what you see." 

"We did love each other didn't we?"

"We still do."

Draco stared at Hermione's hand in consternation. "I gave you that, didn't I?"

Hermione touched the cold jewel. "Yes. You did."

---  
|| _Meanwhile in the Gryffindor Common Room..._

Professor McGonagall climbed through the portrait hole hurriedly, brushing the tears from her eyes. She didn't know how to break the news. Her fingers shook slightly and a muscle went in her temple.

The Gryffindors were creating a racket around the fire as usual. Nobody paid the least attention to her. She looked around and spotted her target talking animatedly to her friends.

She went up to them and cleared her throat. The chatter stopped abruptly. "Hermione, I'm afraid I have some...bad news."

Hermione looked up, her face white. "Tell me quickly." She whispered.

"We just recieved word your parents were attacked by You-Know-Who. Your house is completely destroyed."

"My parents? Are they all right?" Hermione had stood up, her voice was edged with panic.

Professor McGonagall looked about to cry. "I'm sorry, Hermione, they're dead."

Hermione gasped once and sat down, paler than a ghost. She didn't open her mouth but sat in shock. "Oh God...why..." She mumbled.

"This was found nearby, it's a note that can only be opened by you." Hermione grasped the envelope with shaking fingers and tore it open.

Purity stands alone. Silver and gold do not flow together. Beware the consequences of your actions, for they reach further than you know.

"Voldemort." Harry said, through clenched teeth.

"It's all my fault...if I had just..." Hermione started to cry. Ron held her elbow.

"Come on Hermione, I'll take you to the dormitory." 

They sat down on Hermione's bed. "It's all right, Herm, it's not your fault." Ron said. _It's Draco Malfoy's_.

Hermione put her head onto his shoulder and sobbed quietly.

"It'll be all right." Ron said, holding her tightly. 

Hermione shifted in his arms. He felt comfortable, easy...she could let down her guard. He was an old friend. 

Ron licked his lips quickly. Hermione lifted her head. He brushed the tears from her face. She was mere inches away from him. "Hermione..." He whispered, drawing closer.

She turned. "Please Ron. Not now."

"I'm sorry." 

_That doesn't mean not ever, does it?_ He thought, hopefully.

---  
|| _Three days later, in the faraway land of India..._

The sun bounced off the gleaming marble walls of the structure. The rays deflected, basking the ash-rose building in a corona-like aura. An assortment of people of all ages chattered sombrely in the sultry afternoon. The architecture was flavoured with urban ethnicity.

Brass lettering on the frontal archway proclaimed the school as 'Vidya Institute for the Gifted', a smaller sign below said 'Bangalore District, India'.

A short, stern woman clapped her hands, standing at the top of the stairs. The people in the playground stopped talking. Silence reigned. It was not surprising, as there were only twenty or so standing in the gardens.

"Listen, everyone!" Her accent was slightly Scottish with an undercurrent of southern indian. "You are all here because you have heard of us. We do not solicit or advertise. We are open to all who wish to enter. Welcome to Vidya Institute for the Gifted. By Gifted I do not mean mere witches and wizards. You are _more_. Every one of you here has a magical capability." She fixed them with a glance. "You mayn't be able to do everyday magic, as your fellows, but you have a special- talent. And in this time of need you are especially valuable." She smiled, displaying a row of even white teeth.

"A new batch of students, you, have just arrived. You may have noticed that we do not house many. You may have also noticed the discrepancies in age. This is _not_ a school. It is, however, a place of learning. You will learn to develop your potential and expand as a character. My name, by the way, is Vidya Patil. Vidya will do just fine." She motioned into the darkness behind her and an young man stepped out of the door.

"My name is Cyrus, and I'm here to get you acquainted with the 'teachers' and split you up. According to your talent, move where I tell you. Vidya is our headmistress here. I teach all Spirimagi. True Seers, Scryers, Spirit Walkers..." He stopped and inclined his head toward a man with short dyed red hair. "That is Javed- Jay, he teaches the Elemagi, people who control wind, water, fire and earth. Vidya's with the Mensamagi, telepaths, mind scryers, thought amplifiers- things like that. Now Kaveri over there's great with the innovators and talented, you know, the budding Nicolas Flamels, the duellers, etc. etc...okay?" Cyrus stopped speaking as the few students moved toward their respective teachers. 

The dusty ground was empty except for one glaring figure. All that could be seen of her was long black hair, wavy, with a streak of blue-purple in it and deep-gazing, large black eyes like twin abyss. She was covered completely. A thin midnight-blue inner tunic came up to her chin and halfway down her thigh. A tight black bodysuit could be seen inside.

Heavy leather boots came almost past her knees. Chainmail clinked against the large sword she had suspended from a leather belt around her hips. Short leather gloves covered her long fingers. Even her face was covered by a supple transparent mask. It's outline could be faintly seen along her hairline.

The assemblage looked at her in mild shock and distaste. A freak among freaks. She didn't seem to care.

"Ah." Cyrus cleared his throat. "And why have you not gone to your teacher?"

She replied in an even voice, which sounded much older than the twenty something she looked.. "There are none here which foster my talent."

"Ah, and what is that-, wait, what is your name?" A muscle twitched in her cheek.

"Chaos."

A few started to titter. Cyrus had an expression of mild indulgence on his face. He smiled benevolently.

"Okay then, Miss-, ahem, Chaos, what is your talent?" Open laughter sounded out, but Chaos only looked smug.

"I-," She stopped, "I am a Healer." The laughter stopped abruptly and was replaced by an awed silence.

No Healer had walked the earth for six hundred years.

But then, Chaos had always been unusual.

---  
|| _Dumbledore's office..._

"I see, Celeste, you're quite sure of your breakthrough?" Dumbledore inclined his head.

"Yes, now all I need is the last ingredient. The blood." Celeste fingered the empty crystal vial in her pocket.

"It's also the hardest ingredient to find. They must also be willing to give you a dram." Celeste laughed.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Let's find one first. I need some help with that."

"You'll need a miracle, Celeste. The best we have are Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and your half-brother, Draco Malfoy..." Dumbledore grimaced.

"But...?"

"They haven't graduated yet and besides that, Hermione's parents were murdered by Voldemort. A warning to keep away from Draco." The blue fire glinted in his eyes as Celeste flinched. "He's changed hasn't he? Draco, I mean."

"For the good. I've never even talked to Draco civilly before now. We've been getting to know each other. He's really upset, that Hermione girl refuses to speak with him. Guilt, I suppose." Celeste sighed. "It's exactly what You-Know-Who wants."

"He's devious. Time will heal it, she's leaving for the funeral in an hour or so." Celeste smiled wanly. "Now wait a minute!" Dumbledore suddenly swiveled around and picked up an issue of the Daily Prophet. He jabbed at an article. "Here we go, a new school for the Magically Gifted. We might find this person there. _If_ the prophecy is correct."

"Sylvoren is a true Seer unlike Sybill. Will they let us visit?"

"I don't think so...they're usually very protective. But we might, it's run by Parvati and Padma Patil's mother...if you take one of them along it might work." 

"Might?"

"Might." He confirmed. "Add to that you don't have the time. The Meet of Mages to decide the details of the war converges very soon."

"Ah, Albus, sometimes you forget we live in _modern_ times!" Celeste smiled and placed her glittering hourglass pendant on the table.

---  
---


	6. The Meet of Mages

**Harry Potter & the Trident's Curse**  
---  
_The world's a bubble and the Life of Man  
Less than a span  
In his conception wretched, from the womb  
So to the tomb  
Curst from his cradle and brought up to years  
With cares and fears  
Who then to frail mortality shall trust,  
But limns on water, or but writes in dust.  
_ |Life-Francis Bacon|  
--- 

**Part 6-** The Meet of Mages

_Dumbledore's office..._

Albus Dumbledore cast Celeste a quick glance. "Where did you get that? The use of Time-Turners is strictly governed." He said sharply, with a slight twinkle in his eye.

Celeste laughed. "Oh, Albus, you're a failure as a Ministry rule stickler. I didn't _steal_ it, I made it myself."

"Impressive...I didn't know you were that advanced." Dumbledore smiled.

"Albus, I have invented the Draught of Eternal Youth, a Time-Turner is nothing to me."

"Now, Celeste, it should work _theoretically_, but in practice...?" He glanced out of the window. "But a Time-Turner is a Metallurgists domain..."

"Much useful knowledge comes from unlicensed Alchemy. Pity it's outlawed." She said, unconcernedly.

"A very fine line between genius and lunacy." Dumbledore mumbled, chuckling. Celeste perked up.

"I heard that, Albus! But I was _born_ an Alchemist, Azkaban wouldn't change that! The Ministry simply wouldn't see beyond my age when I applied for a license!" Dumbledore sighed.

"I won't argue. Come, we have work to do. I think we should talk to Draco."

---  
|| _One of the deserted rooms outside the Great Hall..._

"You want to _what_?"

"I want to marry you."

Draco swallowed and sat down on his bed. "Ah." He said, weakly. "Parry, um, we haven't been together in years...besides, I don't love you."

"Love." Parthenope laughed. "_Love?_, Draco darling? How delightfully quaint! Merely liking is far better"

"Eh?" The polished veneer of suavity was gone from his fearful face.

"It is impossible to love and be wise." She said, smiling.

"Francis Bacon." Murmured Draco instinctively. "But what has that got to do with-..."

"Listen." She interrupted. "You and I together can marshal an army rival to all. Draco, the Wizard War will be our victory. Your Dragonstaff and the Dragons, my Voice and the Armies of the Undead."

"I don't care for world domination, really." He said, brushing his hair back nervously. 

"You're a Slytherin, of course you do." Draco cursed under his breath. "Besides, you can only choose Dumbledore and Potter or the Dark Lord."

"I side, Parthenope, with Hermione." He said, in a tight voice.

"Ah, the little MudBlood? That means you side with Dumbledore and, correct me if I'm wrong, I don't think you care for him or his multitudes of Muggles." Draco's hands started to shake.

_Bloody hell, she can read me like a freaking book. Just keep in cool, remember what father said. Never let your enemies see what you are feeling. You love Mia. You love her._ He told himself, calming outwardly.

"That's what will happen. Close your eyes to it if you can, you simply don't belong in that world. Nor do you belong in a world of servile worship of the Lord. Make your own world Draco." She smiled innocently, knowing each word tossed doubt into his turbulent mind.

"I _have_ my own world. I just won't take sides." He said, clinging to a shred of obstinacy.

"Now, Draco, you have made me quite irritated. I was hoping that I wouldn't have to do this, but..." She took a deep breath and spoke in a pleasant tone. "Marry me or I'll join Voldemort and wreak havoc on the Muggles , kill your little girlfriend like her parents and bury her along with your mother and sister who, trust me on this, won't die such an honourable or quick death."

Draco blanched. "But I _love_ her." He said, in a strangled tone."

"If one judges love by the majority of it's effects, it is more like hatred than friendship." She smiled again, and her voice dripped sickly sweet. "You don't have to decide now...tell me later, sweet...discuss it with Granger. Toodles!" She said, winking and pecking him on the cheek. 

Draco watched with mounting disgust and horror as she walked out the door and his sister and Dumbledore came in.

He sat down, his breath coming too fast. His head spun and thoughts rushed wildly in his mind. Flashes of the future rankled in his mind. He held his head in his hands and started to sob softly. No tears ran down his face. Tears never ran down his face.

Celeste dropped to her knees beside him. "Draco, what's wrong, please, Draco..." She said, running her fingers through his tousled hair. "You can tell us."

He looked up, his face pained. "Can I?" Then he laughed derisively. "Perfect, now I get to ask the great Albus Dumbledore for help."

Dumbledore smiled genially. "I'm not quite so bad as you think I am."

Draco looked at him intently and shook his head. "Parthenope asked me to marry her." He said, in a flat monotone.

Albus' face clouded. "I was afraid of that. Did she threaten you?"

"Of course. She'll kill Mia, Celeste and mum...and join Voldemort with her 'Armies of the Undead'." Celeste's face turned hateful. Her mouth twisted into a classic Draco snarl.

"That psychotic little wench. Wait till I get my hands around her throat." She started to get up but Draco grabbed her hand.

"You're acting like a Malfoy. Stop it."

She turned her suddenly icy eyes onto him. "Nobody messes with _my_ family." Draco tightened his grip until he felt Celeste's muscles relax. She sighed deeply. "I'm sorry, I don't know what got into me...I-...Draco." Impulsively, she embraced him tightly.

Draco smiled somewhat sadly. _She actually cares enough to be angry._

"What am I going to do? Hermione won't even talk to me, this is _my_ problem, she's got too many of her own." Draco tugged at his spiky forelock. "I'll deal with it. She's not going to bloody come in here and wreck my life."

He looked up at them. "I need to be alone for a while. Please."

They nodded and went out the cobwebbed door. "_Nox_!" He muttered to his wand and the light went out. He outstretched his arms palm up in front of him.

Nodding to the right side he said. "Parthenope, my path, fame, glory, control, power, my family and Mia alive. Loneliness, as well." He turned to the left palm. "Mia- but dead, Celeste, mum and the Muggles dead. Voldemort and Parthenope against me, Potter, Weasley and the rest of the world after my blood. Loneliness here too." 

He started to weigh the options in his mind but suddenly cried out. "This is not _fair_! What kind of shit is this." He kicked one of the rotting tables savagely and watched it crumble to dust.

He sat down on the cold floor in the darkness and closed his eyes. Suddenly, he could feel himself being sucked into another world. He relaxed and let himself be transported.

_Draco found himself in a dank room, with shelves filled with books to the ceiling. The air was musty and he coughed. A single thin book sat on the centre table. He walked towards it and touched the heavily bound cover. He didn't even have to open it. _

The cover gently opened itself. The first page remained blank for a second and then lines of words formed written in a delicate hand with alternating gold and silver writing. 

_If ever the Gold and Silver entwine,_

And disregard the boundary line,

If their love is true, t'will survive,

If not, but one will remain alive,

One will become the Gold one's heir,

And one will fall into Silver's snare.

Blood of the old shall replenish the new

Blood of many for the gain of a few.

If the course they steer is of Love,

Then of the Curse they are Above.

But in the end Destruction will knell

One will stand where the other fell.

He took a step back. "What the hell book is this?" As if responding to his request, the bottom of the page swirled for a second and then words appeared. "Ye Booke of the Fates- but that's an old legend!"

"Ah, but we live in a time of legend." Draco whirled around. "The legend is true and you are _mine_."

Draco glanced at him skeptically. The man was tall and regal, with short slightly curly black hair and penetrating brown eyes. He had negro skin which was scarred deeply. He wore a heavy costume of black with a green scabbard. "You don't look like Salazar Slytherin."

He laughed and Draco chilled. "I'm _not_. That weakling Slytherin was _my_ heir."

Draco froze from the double shock of Slytherin being named a weakling and from the fact that Slytherin followed someone else. 

"Don't look so shocked. They all make the mistake of thinking that the 'Silver one' in the curse is Slytherin. Even that failure of a Tom. So I decided this time I'd better make it clear." Draco somehow felt himself believing the extraordinary words. The chill exuding from the man convinced him.

"Who are you..?" Draco bit his tongue to stop from adding a 'sir' at the end.

"Not many know me, I existed before the Destruction. In fact, I _created_ the Destruction." Draco blanched.

The Destruction was a time of old when all the knowledge of the age was burned. Books, records...people. Everything. Time and history started over then, but nothing was known of the age before the Destruction.

"I am Lord Daemersgrale Argentus Mortragen, the Sorceror, and you are my new heir."

"The Sorceror? That's a myth!" Draco swallowed and quickly hurried on under Mortragen's glare. "But- but what about Him, you know-...Voldemort." It didn't seem right to fear Voldemort when fear incarnate stood before you. A sorceror- the Sorceror, the high dark wizard. Evil was an understatement.

"Him? Oh no, he's more Salazar's heir. I'll explain later."

"Why did you create the curse? And who's 'the Gold one'?" Mortragen looked mildly impressed.

"You catch on quite well. 'The Gold' is-was, Helaine Wrathstorme." Daemersgrale did not say anything about why.

"That means Hermione's her heir." 

"Quite. But that doesn't matter." Draco shrugged.

"But...that means she's powerful, how can it not matter to you?" 

"Mmmm...you think she's like Godric Gryffindor. Of course, I forgot you know nothing. You see, Helaine married the powerful one, Gravero Gryffindor. Somewhere along the way in history, Helaine's title and Gryffindor's power fused into one person. She just has Helaine's blood, no power." He hurried over the last part. "The boy called Harry Potter is Gryffindor's heir, the new Gryffindor. Things haven't taken a linear course, you see, like I told you before, since our heirs became so powerful, they can have their own heirs. So you are my heir but not my heir's heir. However my heir's heir, the 'Great Lord Voldemort," He mocked. "Is connected somewhat to me but not directly. It's complex." Daemersgrale smiled. "All that is left is for you to agree."

"You mean I have to agree for this to work?"

Mortragen smiled thoughtfully. "Yes...in theory."

"Then I'm not. I told you, not interested in your battle and never will be." Daemersgrale smiled dangerously.

"You wish to refuse what Slytherin begged for?" 

"Salazar Slytherin begged for what you're offering me?" Draco was incredulous.

"Why, yes. You have much greater potential than him. Perhaps even more than me...."

"No." Draco said it quickly, before the flattery could soften his resolve.

Mortragen closed his eyes for a second. His hair started to turn iridescent silver from the roots upward. His fingernails were curved and gleaming. He opened his eyes and they gleamed, no more brown. "That's why I'm called 'the Silver one'." His voice prickled Draco's skin and constricted his throat.

Draco's heart started to beat faster. His appearance was ghastly, terrifying. Daemersgrale fixed his eyes onto Draco and glared into them. Draco felt a mild cold, tingly but not painful. He looked surprised and then impressed.

"You have one of my gifts, I see. The power to freeze people's hearts and minds. The power those traitorious Dementors stole from me. Those who have it are impervius." 

"Now, to the matter of your joining me. It'll happen sooner or later, preferably with you unhurt. I am offering you another chance, another way out of this alarming mess. Keep your pet girlfriend, defeat Voldemort and ensure your family's safety. And power, too." Daemersgrale glanced at Draco. 

"What do you get out of this?" Draco asked, his street-smart mind kicking in.

"Clever, Draco Argentus Malfoy." His name pronounced by those lips seemed more a curse than name. "Little Tommy Riddle's getting a little too egotistical for his own good. Forgetting to pay obeiscance to his betters."

"He's not doing your power renewal ceremonies." Draco said, the light suddenly dawning on him. "And you and Slytherin are losing your power, your curses, your deeds...everything's fading! Voldemort's taking your place in the Trident."

Draco almost laughed, the situation was so absurd. Here he was talking to the Sorceror about the three most feared controllers of Destiny. Made up, always, of the Greatest Magic-user, the Greatest Dark Magic-user and the most intelligent magic user ever. They watched over humanity and pushed the pawns. Time was inconsequential to them. In death or in Life, the magic-users that formed the Trident didn't control it, it always controlled them.

"You're more advanced in your dark arts studies than the last time I checked up on you. Astute to guess that I am of the Trident. But then, time is different in the dead plane." Draco's curiosity was piqued and fear was discarded.

"What's it like? On the dead plane?"

"'Tis being immured and ensconced in ye vile past. 'Tis eternal torture. Not one of us hath not a regret. Each is played out again and again, life slowly strangulating one's death. 'Tis but eternal, one doth 'die' following death also. 'Tis the same forsake they name it transcending." He said, sounding surprisingly ancient and tired. "Cursèd be, I am reminiscing and speaking in the old tongue. It shan't happen again. A change in the Trident causes huge changes to the fabric of reality. If I lose my place I will be immured in limbo forever. Your world shall never be the same." 

"What do I have to do if I choose to be your heir?"

"Now you're talking. You don't have to kill the Muggle-borns. That was Salazar's stupidity. I judge by talent. You may not join Albus Dumbledore, though, I have no fondness for Muggles and I know you don't either. Riddle must be vanquished. It is your destiny to be great, Draco Argentus Malfoy, it must be fulfilled." Daemersgrale smiled again, a smiled that slithered into your heart and squeezed the life-blood out of it. "Achieve your ambitions."

"I don't- don't know..." Draco faltered. It's a nightmare- a nightmare...He said to himself.

"No nightmare Draco Argentus Malfoy. I will be seeing you again. Think the prospects over carefully."

"But I thought I was descended from Rowena Ravenclaw!"

"My great-granddaughter! Yes, you are. But surely you know that Salazar and Rowena were siblings, Godric and Helga were, too. I chose Salazar of course, much easier to bend to my will." Draco gulped.

"I'll think about it." Draco said weakly, willing his eyes to open.

Like an invisible hand holding him back, the Sorceror's eyes bored into him. "I'm sure you will." He said, and Draco was thrust back into his own world. 

---  
|| _In front of Hogwarts..._

Hermione brushed the tears from her eyes and took a deep breath. The pumpkin carriage was ready. This time, not to convey her to a train station filled with laughter, but a burned, desolate house and memories- oh, the memories! 

It gave her physical pain to think about her parents. A dull throb that she hoped guiltily would die away. A certain queer ache when she thought about her last conversations with each of them. The heartwrenching jolt when she remembered her mother's mannerisms and realised that she would never see them again.

Hermione shivered and wished her father was there, just to hold her and tell her that things were going to be all right. She almost half believed that her mother would be waiting at home to comfort her and to remind her that anything was possible. 

She even missed their dental advice.

"Look, Herm, are you sure you're all right?" Harry asked, patting her arm for the tenth time in eight minutes.

"It's a redundant question." She replied hollowly. "Of course I'm not all right."

Harry looked away, uncertain at what to say. He thought that he would be best equipped to help Hermione because of his parents, but he was wrong. he had never had to experience that loss- except with the Dementors, and even then he had known beforehand that they were dead. 

Harry ran his fingers through his hair. Her grief was just so absolute. She hadn't changed clothes in days, her hair was dishevelled and she hadn't even packed properly.

It was like another person had invaded Hermione's body. 

Cursing herself and feeling guilty, Hermione glanced around quickly, looking for Draco. She wasn't even sure that he would say anything to make her feel better- but she knew she wanted him there.

"Look, anything you need, we're here, okay?" Ron interrupted, his voice a little too loud. 

He held her upper arm and pulled her into an embrace, patting her back. She drew away and he relinquished his hold on her reluctantly. Hermione felt suddenly resentful.

_He's supposed to be helping me, not making me uncomfortable. Ron would never do that usually._ She thought, and then realised the reason for his actions. _Love is as strong as death, Jealousy is as cruel as the grave. God, do I have to think about death?_

"I know, Ron." She replied, like an automation.

She took a deep breath and put her single bag onto the carriage and climbed on. 

"Come on, Crookshanks." She called, as the ginger cat jumped on. The carriage started with a lurch. She waved to Ron and Harry till they passed around the bend and she lost sight of them.

_I really thought he would come._ She thought, as she started her journey home. She rummaged in her bag and found a novel. She flicked to her red and gold bookmark and started to read.

Four pages later she stopped reading. A queer clapping kind of noise could be heard above the usual rattle. Hermione started and flung the book onto the floor as she heard a rapping at her window.

With a shaking hand she opened the curtains and flung open the window. Her first reaction was surprise, shock and then bewilderment.

"Draco?" She said incredulously.

"Yup, yours truly. I missed you at school so I thought I'd ride by." He rubbed the neck of his Dragon. Hermione took out her wand and muttered the spell to stop the carriage. 

*_Slow up Alyewn._*

"Where did you pick up the outfit?" Hermione asked, momentarily forgetting her troubles.

"Hagrid. Was very helpful." Hermione looked over Draco in his black suede trousers, Slytherin green sweatshirt with chainmail over it, green Dragonhide gloves and black leather boots with green lining. He looked as if he belonged, especially with his staff. He wore no head-protection over his hair, now as unruly as Harry's.

Draco looked away from her and there was a smile playing on his lips; a smile of the sheer joy of DragonRiding and Hermione felt a chill. _By Gryffindor, he looks so much like Harry._ She thought.

He jumped down and looked up at her. Hermione giggled down at him as he stretched his arm up for hers.

"What's so funny?" Draco asked, irately. His big entrance hadn't evinced the awe he had expected; his ego needed some salve.

"This just reminds me of, you know, the Balcony scene of Romeo and Juliet." Draco allowed himself a small smile at Hermione's thought.

"Wanna make your own? Draco and Hermione's pumpkin-carriage scene?" She laughed out loud and then suddenly stopped. Her guilt for forgetting could be felt in the air.

"I'm sorry I haven't been talking to you. It's just so much has happened- and it's all my fault." Hermione stepped down from the carriage and Draco held her hand.

"Nothing-" He said, his eyes blazing a chilling fire. "Nothing- is your fault. In this if nothing else Voldemort has lost an ally."

Draco said it unconsciously, not even realising that he had acknowledged himself as a High Wizard. Someone that Voldemort and others would want as an ally- a powerful ally.

Hermione glanced up, noticing it. "An _ally_?"

"Forget that." _My problems can wait._ He thought. "Look, Mia, I know it's always hardest for the survivors of life, so I just came to tell you this one thing. Please just remember it." She nodded and he leaned closer.

"In grief, bend- but do not break." He whispered and kissed her softly. "Send me an owl."

He climbed onto Alyewn before she could say a word and was gone. 

---  
|| _The Vidya Institute for the Gifted, Principal's office_

"Look-...Chaos, is it? Ahem, well, it is quite impossible for you to be a healer. You know that healing is such a volatile magic that the merest touch of the person could be fatal. Healers died out." Vidya explained gently.

"Look, dearie..." She placed a hand on Chaos' knee and drew it away with a yelp. "Have you got an enchantment on there?"

"I can't harness my power yet. That's why I am completely covered. I thought at least _you_ would see the truth."

"But you're lying! Isn't it obvious? Go ahead then, prove it, touch me without your gloves." Jay said, impatiently.

Jay smiled triumphantly. "See, you can't!"

"It's not that. I-I told you, since I don't know how to control it, I might pull out your life-force." Jay looked disbelieving.

"Fine, I'm willing to take the chance. Go ahead or we won't help you. Heal this." He showed her a deep cut on his forearm. "Got it this morning." Chaos lip trembled and her fingers twitched.

Slowly, she pulled the glove off her right hand. The air around it started to crackle and pop alarmingly. Jay licked his lips, suddenly apprehensive. Chaos closed her eyes and squeezed, a few tears, crystalline and sparkling, trickled down her face, contorted with pain. She swallowed and seemed to draw into herself.

She opened them again, and they were slits like a cat's eyes. The air hissed softly and then stopped crackling. With infinite caution she touched him softly on his forehead.

For a second, the room was still then suddenly force like an explosion ripped through. The lights went out. All the energy in the air seemed to be pulled into the centre of the room. An aura of white-blue light illuminated Chaos. The air swirled around her, ripping books from off the shelves and upturning chairs.

Javed suddenly convulsed, gasping. The light shifted from Chaos to Jay, travelling downwards till it reached his arm. The light intensified and then melted away slowly. He relaxed and opened his eyes.

Chaos almost smiled when suddenly her body jerked. A gasp was wrenched from her lips as Jay's eyes widened with fear. Chaos fingers shook as Jay started to glow faintly red. The light pulsed and converged into one point. Slowly, reluctantly it travelled to the point where Chaos fingers brushed his head. 

Chaos jerked again, as the light started to transfer from his body to hers. Kaveri yelled.

Chaos turned to them. "Please...help." She breathed. "Get her off him, people, come on!" With quick reflexes she grasped Chaos waist and threw her halfway accross the room. It was made easier by the fact that Chaos had put her weight into it too.

The light pulsed quicker and then melted into Jay's skin. He opened his eyes and looked around. With an agile bound he leapt to his feet and flexed his fingers. 

"I've never felt better in my entire life!" He exclaimed, lifting his sleeve to display the cut. The skin was smooth. "It's gone..."

Every head in the room turned to look at Chaos. She had slipped on her glove and was clutching her hand tightly. She was breathing heavily, but still managed to smile.

"Nice tackle." She nodded to Kaveri, rubbing her spine.

"What do you want from us? We can teach you nothing." Vidya said quickly, an undercurrent of respect in her tone.

"You have the most extensive libraries about Magical Talents. As you saw, my power controls me. The ancient books might be of some use. With the MageWar coming, my power will be sorely needed. You will also be my liason to the world. My home is Unplottable and fortified. If any wish to find me, you will direct them as you see fit." Her voice carried authority.

"Now wait a minute, something must also be done in return." Cyrus said. Chaos smiled.

"I will teach your students basic healing. When they join the war it will be a great asset." Vidya banged the table and knocked her tea-mug onto the paper-strewn floor.

"No!" She said, vehemently. "These people- especially the children- are _not_ going to war! They must be spared the agony. I forbid it!" 

"They are of great value to both sides."

"I will not allow them to die."

Chaos regarded her critically. "Is that not their own choice? Besides that, this is a War to end all Wars. This will change the way we live. If the Dark Side wins, you will not be safe wherever you hide." 

Vidya's shoulders slumped. She gestured lifelessly. "The library's that way, Jay will show you."

As Jay and Chaos walked out of the room, he suddenly stopped and glanced at her.

"Chaos, will you answer one question truthfully?"

"Truth is merely a perspective." He waved his hand impatiently.

"When you took off your glove...why were there tears in your eyes?" Chaos regarded him briefly.

"The reason I cover my skin is twofold- Jay-, one is to protect others. The other, main reason is to protect myself. You see, I can _feel_ suffering." Her lip trembled and her voice was raspy and low. "You have no idea what the pain of the entire world feels like."

---  
|| _The International Wizarding Organisation for Peace, Geneva_

The main Ministers for Magic, aides and other powerful magic-users sat around the table. The table was quite small, considering the fact that it would decide the future of the Wizarding World.

Ten men and women. 

From Britain, Cornelius Fudge, the ineffectual figurehead of power. Percival Weasley, his advisor, fair but stern in his way. Albus Dumbledore, the only creature Voldemort was fearful of.

From America, Michael Booth, the typical gregarious politician. Jenny Candon, leader of the Anti-Dementor/Deatheater sect.

From Russia, Tatanya Orvalov, sharp and decisive.

From Italy, Roberto Danellini, new to the game of power.

From India, Vina Deshpande, enigmatic to say the least.

From China, Tsi-Yung Chang, quiet but intelligent.

And last of all, the co-ordinator, a man known only as Georg.

Around the table, each mind was going over it's own interests and anxieties. Each mind was also preoccupied by the eleventh chair, sitting empty, around the large table.

"I say." Fudge spoke up rather squeakily. "I say, is this really necessary, I mean-..."

"Obviously, Fudge." Tatanya said with disdain. "In a war both sides must meet."

Georg was about to say something when the air started to shimmer, the sign of someone about to Apparate.

"He is here." He said, simply.

The air condensed.

In the eleventh chair sat the Dark Lord Voldemort.

---  
---


	7. The Quest

**Harry Potter & the Trident's Curse**  
---  
_Of all my crimes, the breath of all thy Laws  
Love, soft bewitching Love! has been the cause;  
...If things on Earth may be to Heaven resembled  
It must be love, pure, constant, undissembled:  
But if to Sin by chance the Charmer press,  
Forgive...forgive our Trespasses.  
_ |Trespasses- Aphra Behn|  
--- 

**Part 7-** The Quest

_Meet of Mages, IWOP, Geneva_

Albus Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, the arguments were going full swing. He didn't like exposing their fractured front to Voldemort, but it was necessary. His armies were governed by an absolute monarch, a Lord, while theirs by democracy. Much more fair, but it was much harder to make quick decisions.

"No, we must not start before July." Voldemort pronounced, interrupting the babble.

Everyone stopped, Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I quite agree, my students graduate at the end of June as all the other Wizarding School students. I am quite sure they shall wish to participate."

Michael laughed. "True, true as ever, for what's a war without youngster's zeal?" Percy cringed at his rolling 'r's and extended 'a's but nodded anyway.

"It is settled then, July." Tatanya cut in.

Everyone nodded. Suddenly a soft but penetrating voice spoke. "But is it right to involve the young in the conflict of their elders?"

"Only those above seventeen, Vina. We must grant them their own choice." Tsi-Yung Chang said to her.

She considered a moment and then nodded. 

"We must choose an auspicious day to start, of course." Georg said, suddenly. "The fifth is good."

"Very well, let us agree. We have solved nothing yet." Percival- Percy Weasley interposed.

"The fifth." Everyone nodded. "Now, we must come to the allies, armies and their leaders." Georg said. "Mr. Riddle, would you please begin?" The meeting had been advised by Dumbledore on how to address the Dark Lord.

Voldemort's nostrils flared, but he said nothing. "My armies will be led foremost by me and my steed, Blacknight. Lucius Malfoy will command the trolls, dementors, humans and my deatheaters. Another Ally, Countess Parthenope Czyren will command the armies of the undead. There is also another Ally I am yet uncertain of." He stopped, and waited for the shock to sink in. "I will have at least 200,000 creatures fighting for me."

"Ah, well." Georg said, obviously shaken. "We are led by Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Celeste LaSeule, you may not be knowing her." He continued on, not seeing Voldemort's expression of horror.

Albus Dumbledore, however, noted it well. "The goblins and giants fight with us. Our strength is around 170,000."

"The TimeFreeze spell will have to be quite large, then." Roberto said, nervously. "Where is there such a large area?"

"Greenland." Jenny Candon said. "It is the only place isolated enough."

"Can't we find somewhere slightly warmer, eh?" Cornelius Fudge said.

"I shouldn't worry if I were you, Fudge. You'll be dead before you feel the cold." 

Lord Voldemort smiled.

---  
|| _Celeste's room in the Dungeons..._

Celeste quickly stirred the yellow-orange potion. The temperature and consistency had to be perfect when the powdered Grimwort was added. She tried to open the wooden jar with one hand while stirring the potion with the other. The jar fell to the ground with a clang and Celeste sighed in exasperation.

The doors swung open. "If that's you in there Potter, I'll-...ah." Severus Snape stopped.

"Hello Severus." Celeste said evenly. "I could use some help."

"And you expect me to deliver it?" He spat.

"Why do you loathe me so?"

"The Dark Lord's progeny! Evil runs in your blood!" He hissed. Celeste went white and stopped stirring. "Look at what your _father_ did to me when Dumbledore bade me return. Look!" He lifted his sleeve, and where the DeathEater's brand used to be was scarred and disfigured tissue.

Snape could still hear the words. _You have disgraced me Severus. You have betrayed not only my service but my friendship. The Dark Lord is merciful only to the loyal._ He could still taste the air, but oddly, the pain eluded him. It had been searing, but he could not remember it.

"My- my _father_?" Celeste whispered, aghast.

"Why do you think your foolish mother hasn't told you? I hate you, Celeste, because your father loves you." 

"But- but...Narcissa- mum- she said that there were two men in her life. She said that she would never tell me which- so how do _you_ know?"

"True, it might have been another, but what if it isn't? Have you not noted how much your features are like his? Your straight black hair? Look at a picture of Tom Riddle and you will see."

"I don't believe you." 

"And I don't care if you do." 

Severus Snape turned on his heel and walked out, a seed of remorse in his heart.

---  
|| _The Granger funeral procession..._

Hermione swallowed and brushed the tears from her eyes. No amount of crying could relieve her pain. A thick knot of apprehension squeezed at her stomach. The procession had been planned to wind past her old home.

She had stayed at an aunt's house since she arrived. Just thinking about her lost home caused her pain. But somehow, she was glad the house was gone. She couldn't have lived there again, in the memory haunted rooms. At least she could forget.

There was bliss in forgetting.

They turned the corner and Hermione stopped. The front of the house wasn't as badly damaged as she had expected. It was slightly charred, and the garden had grown out of the meticulous neatness her father had kept it in. The back was completely obliterated along with most of the sides. Black and grey ash was piled in mounds.

There was still the pungent odour of obliteration about the house. She looked away quickly and kept her head down.

They reached the graveyard quite quickly. Hermione hardly remembered the service or the relatives coming and expressing their condolences. Her parents had both been atheists, but Hermione didn't have the strength to do away with religious vestiges. All she remembered was wishing that everyone would leave.

Wishing that they would stop crying and let _her_ cry. There was so much emotion in the air that she felt it impossible to show any of her own. As she walked to her parents' open coffins she heard whispering.

"Like stone! You'd think she didn't even care-..."

"At boarding school- they say that they were never very close..."

"She's always been indifferent. One of those intellectual types that don't have hearts."

"Ruthless little thing- she's probably calculating inheritance tax in her head!"

Hermione closed her ears to the insults. She didn't care what other people thought. Her parents had known how she had felt. She wiped the tears from her eyes and bent towards her father's body.

"I love you, daddy." She whispered and kissed him on the cheek.

She drew away quickly, the skin was so hard and cold- unyielding. Her lips tingled with the coldness and her heart raced with fear. Guilt flooded her senses.

_Hermione, you're afraid- afraid- of your own father? Get a grip._ Suddenly she felt her feelings twist her face. She was mere clay in their hands. 

She fell to her knees and started to sob.

---  
|| _The Library of the Vidya Institute, The Book of Preservation._

-  
Utilising The Craft:

Inexperienced Healers can do more damage than good if they are especially powerful. The Great Arlena Weatherstaff, in her younger days, almost sucked the very life-force out of those she touched. Other manifestation of uncontrolled power include Empathy, where the Healer can actually _feel_ the suffering of people around her, and Energy Drain, where the Healer channels energy from the surroundings to complete the Healing.

They may also take large amounts of time to Heal small injuries. A variety of power channeling exercises and charms are depicted on Page 138. 

Healers may _not_ use their gift upon Mensamagi, those having mind scrying capabilities. The Healer's mind is so complex that even another of great intelligence would be unable to balance their thoughts.

Healers are of great value to the outside world because of their most baneful talent. Healers, with the proper instruction, can channel all the suffering they feel and that has ever passed their fingertips, into another being. Many Dark Lords have enticed Healers to their path.

Healers are a rare race mainly because when they are born, their mother almost inevitably dies in chidbirth. Healers are also very troubled, and countless have taken their own lives. Their ability to see Destruction often works against them. Healers also upset the Balance of Life on the world. Healers are very affected by the Dilution Effect, which is when people stop believing in wizardry. Healing is a powerful Magic and requires a lot of energy. Fewer and fewer are allowed to practice their skills.   
-

Chaos shut the book with a thud. That was the last she had to know. The exercises in the books had been easy for her and she had mastered them quickly.

"Chaos." She spun, unnerved. Kaveri stood behind her with a friendly smile.

"Yes Kaveri."

"I hope you find our library to your, ahem, satisfaction." She said, a smile twitching on her lips.

"Yes, thankyou." Chaos replied seriously.

"And the only other thing you want in return for teaching the kids is us screening people wanting to see you."

"Yes. I have a feeling some will come seeking for me. I leave tomorrow, my work here is complete." 

"Why are you called Chaos? Did you make it up yourself?" Kaveri had a look of intense curiosity on her face.

Chaos almost sighed. She could still here her father's voice. _You just cause too much chaos! Why can't you be normal?_

That was the word he said to her most often. Chaos. _Can't you do anything without creating chaos?_ It had started when she was around fourteen. The air crackling. The screaming fits and crying. It came to a head when her boyfriend kissed her. She had almost sucked out his life-force. He had collapsed on the floor, gasping and jerking convulsively. 

Ever since then she had never touched anyone. She covered her skin to protect herself from the pain and also to hide her real self from the world. It was so much easier not to care.

Pure Chaos.

"I just made it up." Chaos replied. 

---  
|| _Celeste's rooms..._

Celeste sat on the cold stone floor and stared disconsolately at the grey wall. Slowly, the colours swirled before her eyes and she became drowsy. A tiny tear trickled down her cheek and splashed onto the unyielding floor. 

"Celeste...may I please, uh, come in?" Celeste did not reply or even acknowledge whether she had heard the call. "Celeste?"

She slowly ebbed out of her stupor and looked up lifelessly. "You may come in." Her voice was flat and listless.

"Look, Celeste, I'm-...well, you know...I wish-" Severus Snape stopped. "I apologise." He said quickly.

"That's all right. It's not your fault."

"It's not yours either. It is most probable that you aren't the Dark Lord's offspring."

"Oh?"

"I know who the other man is." Celeste lifted off the floor and some life flashed into her eyes.

"Who? Tell me Severus, please." She clutched his sleeve. Snape shuddered at the touch.

"Sirius Black." He tried not to spit out the word. He focussed instead on Celeste's face. Hope glowed on it.

"The Dark Lord or Sirius Black! How different they are..."

"How not." Snape muttered.

"What?" Celeste asked, the rapt look still on her face.

"Eh? Nothing..."

"Thankyou...so very much Severus. You're not quite as bad as you make out to be." In a quick movement, Celeste raised her arms and gave Severus a hug.

Snape went rigid and relaxed when Celeste released him. It felt almost- rewarding. Snape banished the thought. He had made amends for his mistake, it was time to leave.

"Severus...I'm making a _very_ interesting Potion...and I need some help."

---  
|| _The Slytherin Dormitories, a month later..._

Draco curled up in his bed and closed his eyes.

_He was back in the library with the Sorceror facing him. The Sorceror smiled- grinned maliciously, rather._

"You haven't made up your mind or talked to you girlfriend."

"Yeah, well, she's got enough on her mind." He replied, defiantly. "You're driving me crazy- I can't take you in my head any more."

"I'm not even being malevolent- imagine if I was. You could never get me out of your mind." Draco looked down.

"You don't think I know that?"

"Even the most knowing minds sometimes need reminding..." He stopped and looked away. "Anyhow, I'll give you till you Graduate. No more appearances, manifestations- nothing. But the day after, you will give me an answer."

Draco said nothing.

"You will- or I will make your life a living hell. Draco Argentus Valwracen Malfoy, you are very much like me. It is your destiny. You cannot avoid it. The Trident will not allow it."

"My destiny?" Draco felt his control leaving him. "My fucking destiny? Do I have a goddamn sign on me that says 'control me' or something? My whole life my father has tried to control me and now you flash the freaking Trident. Well, I have some news, I don't care whether you don't give me your permission."

"Stop it. You are trying my patience."

"Tragic. My heart bleeds for you." He spat back.

For a second, Daemersgrale looked ready to murder him on the spot, but then, oddly enough, he laughed. A human laugh from an inhuman person.

"You do have spunk. That will be useful. You really do remind me of myself. I won't try and control you. I will, ah- guide- you. Goodbye till your Graduation, Draco Argentus Valwracen Malfoy. Keep well."

---  
|| _Four months later, Graduation Day at Hogwarts..._

Draco bit his lip nervously. He was dressed in the deepest green. He tried to think of it as Slytherin Green but failed. It was Mortragen Green. He was as confused as ever. 

Hermione and he had gotten to know each other further. Their relationship was delicate, she still felt guilty, and Draco didn't want to fracture it. He didn't have an easy option. Each one called for sacrifice. He knew he would never join Parthenope, but if he didn't then he would have to join Daemersgrale or Voldemort. He didn't believe in Dumbledore. So far Daemersgrale the Sorceror seemed the only choice. 

Daemersgrale was far more powerful than Voldemort would ever be.

But would Hermione ever forgive him and be able to love a Dark Lord's Ally. Not simply and ally, but his heir...Lord Malfoy. Draco almost laughed bitterly.

His father was already Lord Malfoy. And Draco didn't want to become his father. Sorceror Malfoy? Maybe just forget Malfoy. Lord Draco Argentus Valwracen. 

Would she love him then?

Cornelius Fudge stepped down from the podium after making his long-winded speech. Dumbledore stepped up and cleared his throat.

"We've kept you here for long enough and I'm sure you want to reach the refreshment table as soon as possible, so I'll be brief. As always, we confer special awards to the outstanding three students of the year." McGonagall handed him three black velvet boxes.

"Hermione Granger, Gryffindor." Dumbledore called. Hermione stepped up to the large podium clustered with teachers.

It was a warm June day and the breeze ruffled her hair. Her cheeks were flushed with anticipation. She was the first of the Graduating class to be called. 

There were murmurs of discontent from the RavenClaw and Slytherin rows. RavenClaw usually took first place and Slytherin simply hated a Gryffindor leading the class.

"Ms Granger, eleven out of thirteen N.E.W.T's taken. All completed with Wizarding Level A with extensions in Arithmancy, Transfiguration, Defence Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic, Charms, Ancient Runes and Telepathy." Dumbledore snapped open the black velvet box and placed a gold medal around Hermione's neck. "First Place."

She blushed an even deeper red and smiled.

"Draco Malfoy, Slytherin." Draco looked up with a start. _Second place?_ He got up and strode up the steps.

There was a large hum over all the rows now. The Slytherins with surprise, the Hufflepuffs with confusion and the RavenClaws and Gryffindors with sheer outrage.

"Mister Malfoy, twelve out of thirteen N.E.W.T's taken. Eleven completed with Wizarding Level A and one Level B. Extensions in Potions, Transfiguration, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Charms and Arithmancy." He placed the gold medallion onto Draco's neck. "Second Place."

"Topping show, Draco." He whispered amiably. 

Draco glanced at Hermione, who was beaming by his side. She reached for his hand behind the podium and squeezed it.

"Carmen Terocha, RavenClaw." 

Dumbledore finished with the awards and motioned for the three of them to stand back. He quickly handed hand-written diploma scrolls to the rest of the Graduating Class. Harry graduated with First Class Honours with Ron close behind.

"Now, I have to make a few announcements which may come as a surprise to you all. Firstly, the date for the Wizard War is set. The fifth of July 2003, we will perform the timefreeze and battle for what is right. You may, of course, choose which side you would prefer to be on." Dumbledore took a deep breath.

"I know many of you have cherished hopes of entering institutions of higher learning, universities, I mean. I must regretfully inform you that all Universities will be _closed_ during the Wizard War. If you choose not to participate, you will be Frozen in Time along with the rest of the world. You need not worry about age, for this year the Universities will relax their rules."

Scattered muttering broke out. "Class of 2004, I wish you all the best. I know you'll do Hogwarts proud!"

He stepped down from the stand and walked purposefully towards Draco and Hermione. By now people were milling toward the Great Hall for the feast.

"Hermione, Draco, get Harry, Ronald and Padma Patil and meet me at Hagrid's in ten minutes."

"What's up, Professor?" Draco asked.

"Oh- you'll see. You'll see..."

"You _what_?" Draco exclaimed. _I've been saying that a lot lately._ He thought, irritated.

"I want you to aid Celeste in finding a Healer. I have a good notion of where she will be. This will help not only Celeste, but the armies also." Dumbledore said, quietly.

"Six hundred years. That's a long time." Harry said.

"Sylvoren's pronouncements are pretty accurate- unlike Professor Trelawney's." Ron said as Hermione sighed with exasperation.

"We'll do it." She said. She suddenly felt as if she was the glue that held their little band together. Draco and Ron hated each other, Padma and Ron were looking sort of uncomfortable, Harry didn't know whether to act friendly towards Draco or not.

"Now, there is one other- very important thing." Dumbledore began.

"Name it." Harry said.

"It's quite dangerous...but you have _all_ handled danger before." Dumbledore smiled comfortingly. "The Dementors are moving southward. They haven't crossed the Scotland-England border yet but they will soon. According to the rules of war-"

"Which only _you_ will be following." Draco muttered.

"Quite. They state that we may ambush the Dementors on _our_ side of the border, stating self-defence." Dumbledore continued.

"But-...why? The Time-Freeze starts in a week or so." Padma interposed.

"The Dementors have captives." He patted Harry's shoulder then Draco's. "Sirius Black and Narcissa Malfoy." 

"Shit." Draco hissed. "Oh, shit." His wand drew itself out of his pocket and started to rotate in front of his hand. He clutched it and white light enveloped them again.

The light began to pulse and change colour. It seemed to match his fury. As the light glowed more intense, Draco felt more relaxed, less out of control.

The light pulsed one final time and disappeared, Draco's rage with it.

"What-...happened?" Ron asked.

"The Dragonstaff respond to it's owners immediate feelings. When the wielder is out of control, angry or unhappy, it draws out the emotion. The wielder must always be calm." Hermione said, pausing. "Feel better, Draco?"

"Much." She didn't know whether he was being sarcastic or not. 

"But there's no time to rescue them and get to the Healer both." Harry said. The door of the hut started to open.

Everyone whipped out their wands. 

"I had no idea I was so popular." Celeste said, laughing. "I heard that you all were worried that you would have no time?" She stopped and took five identical gold chains from around her neck. "Don't be."

"Time turners!" Hermione shuddered, remembering her third year.

"When do we leave?" Harry asked, eagerly.

"Now. But before that, we must give you some help." Dumbledore zipped opne the large black bag at his feet. "The required clothing are in the backpacks in the closet." Draco opened it and tossed the backpacks to their owners."Go change and I'll tell you the rest."

Hermione and Padma picked up their packs and went into the bathroom, while the boys quickly changed in the kitchen.

Five minutes later the girls came out. They were wearing chainmail and leather slacks the same as the boys. Draco was wearing a green tunic, Harry, Ron and Hermione red ones and Padma blue. Each of them had scabbards around their hips, although of different sizes. 

"Now Harry, take Gryffindor's sword. I've kept it for long enough." Dumbledore tossed Harry the long sword which he slung into his belt. "Ron, keep this short-sword. Hermione and Padma, daggers, just for protection. And Draco, your sister made this especially for you. She said you prefer the lighter kind of sword." 

Dumbledore handed Draco a sword decorated in the same way as his DragonStaff. The same transclucent blue crystal with tendrils of green gleamed at the hilt.

Almost on cue his Staff slipped into the holder at his right hip. He pushed the sword into the one on his left. He had a determined kind of look on his face.

"But- Professor, why do we need armour and swords? We have magic." Hermione said, discomfited in her fighting outfit.

"The Dementors can sense magic. You will be going after them on brooms, no Apparating. Besides, you'll need the practice for the war. It will not be a SpellWar." Hermione gasped. 

Dumbledore took out a black box and put it into Hermione's hand. Ste opened it. "A scrying pool! Why do I-" Dumbledore cut her off.

"You'll find out. Trust me."

"We'd better leave. How far back should we go?" Ron asked.

"A month and a half. My Time-Turners are already set. Just press the central knob when you're ready." Celeste said. "Goodbye and good luck."

"Keep safe." Dumbledore added.

On impulse, Draco gave Celeste a hug. "Bye, sis. I'll be back with mum soon."

"I don't doubt it, Draco."

"Ready everyone?" Harry said loudly. Nobody responded. "Three- two- one, let's go!"

They vanished with a soft swooshing sound.

Dumbledore glanced at his watch. "They should be back about now." A knock sounded at the door.

Dumbledore strode over and opened it.

"How'd it go?"

---  
---


	8. Rescue and Betrayal

**Harry Potter & the Trident's Curse**  
---  
_They say that Time assuages.  
Time never did assuage.  
An actual suffering strengthens,  
As sinews do, with age._

Time is a test of trouble  
But not a remedy.  
If such it prove, it prove too  
There was no malady.  
|They say- Emily Dickinson|  
--- 

**Part 8-** Rescue and Betrayal

_Hagrid's Hut, one and a half months ago..._

"This is freaky, guys..." Ron said, shivering. He hadn't experienced the queer feeling of temporal dislocation before.

"Come on, I'll bet Hagrid will be back soon." Hermione said, practically. "Does anyone remember the things they did that day- today?" Nobody nodded.

"We'd better sneak out and hope nobody spots us." Harry said, uncomfortably. He still remembered the near go he'd had before with the Time-Turners.

"I'll show you all a way, we'll never get caught." Draco drawled, easily. He opened the door, glanced around and confidently strutted to the edge of the property.

"We'll just have to trust him on this one." Harry said.

"Uh huh." Ron looked skeptical, but followed Draco anyway. 

Draco crouched down as he passed a stretch in the view of the castle, straightened and then ran to a copse of nearby trees. He motioned for the others to follow.

Harry reached there first. "What's the plan?"

"I know you have an Invisibility Cloak, P-Harry. Use it. The rest of us will manage with some Invisibility Charms. We can use our brooms. Does Padma have a broom?"

"A SilverStar 890. And I can ride decently enough." Padma cut in. "They're in our backpacks, Dumbledore shrunk them."

"Right, Padma, you take Ron, I'll take Mia and Harry, you're in front." Draco said quickly.

"Which messiah declared _you_ God?" Ron burst out. Draco cast him a glance.

"He's right, though. Whoever has a plan says it. And we'll never be any good if we keep bickering." Harry interjected.

"Fine, a truce then, till this is over." Draco said, his eyes glinting oddly.

Ron stretched out his hand and accepted the deal suspiciously. Hermione gave a loud exasperated sigh.

"That's it! _Visionilian, Visionilian, Visionilian, Visionilian!_" She cried, tapping Draco, Ron, Padma and herself with her wand. 

Immediately, their outlines began to fade and they became hazy. In one flowing movement, their bodies became completely invisible. Harry slipped his mercurial cloak over his head.

"Let's ride!" He yelled and jumped onto his Firebolt Extra.

"Quidditch mad." Hermione muttered.

~*~*~*

_The Dementors March, a clearing..._

Narcissa awoke with a start. She was disoriented for a second but reality reasserted itself with a jolt. She was lying on the dirt floor of a clearing. Her dreams hadn't been pleasant, but then not much had. Scenes kept flashing before her eyes.

Voldemort coming for her, saying goodbye to Sirius, marrying Lucius Malfoy...there was too much grief in her life to be counteracted by joy. She wished she was dead. Better quick than slowly, like they were doing to her.

Sirius was captive with her. She didn't know what he was doing there. She did, however, have a strong suspicion Voldemort was involved. Sirius was in bad shape, he was pale and feverish. He kept moaning about how he was innocent, muttering about James and Lily, swearing about Pettigrew. He believed he was back in Azkaban.

Sirius didn't even know she was there. The Dementors didn't try to administer the Kiss, thought. Voldemort had probably ordered them not to. Narcissa brushed off her Chanel suit. She had been wearing everyday Muggle clothes when the Dementors had just walked into the living room and taken her. 

Lucius had obviously given them the Disarmament Charms, the keys to the locks and ordered the servants not to help. There was a small army of serfs at the manor, yet none of them had aided her. They had heard her screams but not heeded them. All except Darius. He had come to her as the were taking her out. He had murmured an apology and handed her a bar of chocolate.

Hah.

Narcissa LaSeule, sleeping on a dirt floor. The people at Hogwarts would have laughed at that. Sirius told her that James Potter had called her "the Princess of Snobbania". She had been called many other things, "Madame Princess", "Frost Queen" ...they were endless. In fact, Lucius Malfoy was the only person who ever called her Narcissa.

Stupid, self-absorbed name anyway.

Narcissa could remember glancing at Malfoy Manor as she was taken away. She felt a chill down her spine that signalled the onset of a Vision. A single tear had run down her face.

That was when Narcissa knew that she would never see Malfoy Manor again.

~*~*~

_The Dementors March, by the fire..._

The Dementors huddled around the prone figure of Sirius Black. He was tossing and moaning softly on the floor. 

"No- no, Lupin, I didn't- Dumbledore..." He coughed and turned over.

The Dementor closest to him lowered his hood carefully. The great, gaping gash of a mouth was now in it's face and not on it's head. It opened the mouth and drew in a raspy, rattling breath.

"We should take his soul now." It said, in a gravelly, machine-like voice.

"You were always too impatient, Reil." Another said. He seemed to be taller and spoke with more superiority. "Slytherin's heir bids us wait."

"We owe nothing to him. Our allegiance is to the Sorceror." Reil replied.

"We have other matters to attend, leave the prisoner." The Dementors silently faded away.

Sirius Black moaned and opened his eyes. The desperate thoughts of a minute before had become more bearable now the Dementors were further away.

He lifted himself onto his knees and looked around. From the looks of it they were still in Scotland. Sirius glanced around quickly but suddenly stopped. A pale figure sat huddled up beneath a nearby tree.

"Who-who's that?" Sirius called uncertainly. His weak cry travelled clearly across the crisp Scottish air. The figure shifted and crawled closer to the fire.

"You don't recognise me, Sirius?" Sirius Black moved back in disbelief.

"No- it can't be-" He whispered. "Narce?"

"Hello Sirius." She said, sadness weighing down her tones.

"My God, it's really you, Narce...you've- you've changed." He offered. 

"How?"

"Well, you're hair- you had dirty blonde hair. It's platinum now- and you're much paler. Much thinner, too." Narcissa ran a hand down her concave stomach.

She could feel her ribs even through her day suit. It was true, she had lost too much weight. "I was rather chubby before, wasn't I?"

"I prefer voluptuous." Sirius pronounced, a ghost of a twinkle in his eye. He suddenly went rigid. "How is your husband, Narcissa?"

"Lucius is fine." She said, in clipped tones.

"Oh."

"I missed you, Padfoot." She said, suddenly. "A lot."

"I- missed you too." Sirius looked down. "Narcissa, I want to know- why-"

Sirius suddenly stopped and held his head, groaning pitifully. The Dementors had returned. Soundlessly, they forced them to their feet. Sirius had to be supported. Narcissa was not quite as bad.

They marched on.

---  
|| _The group's course, Midsouthern Scotland..._

"We're not far now-..." Harry was interrupted by Padma's yell.

"Do you see that? Someone's signalling us!" She pointed to red sparks lifting above the dense woods. "Should we stop?"

Harry looked to Draco, their eyes met in a moment of mutual understanding. They both spoke the language of leadership. "I'll go down, Mia, you okay with that?"

Hermione opened her tightly closed eyes. "Any-anything to get down." She said, looking rather green. "I'm feeling a bit off colour."

Draco sighed. "Muggle vestiges!" He muttered mutinously. "I'll send out green sparks if it's okay and yellow if I'm in trouble." Without waiting for a reply he banked sharply.

The air whistled around Hermione's ears as they speeded to the ground. Draco pulled up a few inches before they hit the floor. They stopped with a rattling jar.

"Damn!" Draco hissed. "I don't see why I couldn't bring Alyewn."

"Oh yes, we'd sneak up on them with a great, glittery dragon now wouldn't we? The newest thing in stealth!" Hermione snapped. "Besides-"

"Shut up! Someone's around here." Hermione gave a little gasp and covered her mouth. 

"Sorry." She muttered.

"_Lumos!_" Draco whispered, and cast light with his staff. He had found out the staff could replace his wand perfectly. "_Apperatio Persona_." 

His staff suddenly jerked to the right and illuminated a figure in the shadow. He smiled and stepped forward.

"Hello Hermione, Mr. Malfoy." Remus Lupin said.

"Remus!" Hermione exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"Dumbledore sent me. He said that the Dementors- that they got Sirius." Lupin's face clouded.

"And my mother." Lupin jerked.

"Eh? Narce and Sirius together?" He seemed agitated. "But why? It can't be-.." His voice died away and he continued muttering to himself. _How do they know my mother?_ Draco wondered.

"Um, Remus?" Hermione asked cautiously. "Are you coming with us?"

"I should like to. I have my own broom. It's not a FireBolt extra." Lupin grasped a compact family broom in his right hand.

"The Nexus 1500 is a good family broom. We forgot about that. We'll need it to take Mum and Sirius back." Draco's words were confident but was belayed by his tone.

"We'll get them back, don't worry." Lupin smiled comfortingly but stopped as Draco looked disgusted at the gesture. "Ahem, oh- is it all right if I bring along my step-niece?"

Lupin gestured behind him and Fleur Delacour stepped out.

"'Ermiohnay! 'Ow are you?" She asked, in her queer French accent with tinges of American.

"I'm fine, Fleur, thanks." Hermione and Fleur had never gotten along well. Fleur was just _too_ popular, athletic, beautiful and charming.

She was at the opposite end of the social scale. Exactly like Draco. Exactly unlike her

"_Bonjour, Fleu._" He said, shortening her name and speaking with ease.

"_Draco, mon ami, ça va?_"

"_Bien. Tu connais Remus Lupin?_"

"_Mais oui! Je n'ai pas toi-vu à la promenade-_" She stopped as Draco discreetly indicated Hermione and Lupin. "Oh, am sorry! It is just so nice to speak my language. I didn't see you at ze dance before?"

"I was dancing with Hermione, Fleu. How come you and your parents never come to Malfoy Manor any more?" Hermione's lip twitched.

"Zey are busy, but maybe I come after zis War, eh? First, we must rescue your mother." 

"Yes, we _must_ rescue her." 

"And Sirius." Hermione added.

"And Sirius." Draco affirmed.

---  
|| _Above the woods, Harry, Ron and Padma..._

"Why are they taking so long?" Harry seemed agitated.

"Chill out, will you?" Ron said, equally upset. Harry glanced at him a second.

"Where did you pick up American sla- look!" Large green sparks were shooting into the air. They flickered for a second and then burst into tinier green flecks. Draco was obviously trying to impress them.

"Wow." Padma said. "Well, we'd better go down. Who could it be?"

Harry looked thoughtful. He led the three of them down into the woods. As they got closer, the faces of the figures waving to them became more visible.

"Remus and- by Gryffindor, it's Fleur!" Harry exclaimed. He touched down softly.

"Hello Harry!"

"Remus!" Harry beamed as Lupin thumped his back. "What are you-"

"We got through that already, P-Harry. Come on, we have to keep moving." Draco jumped onto his broom.

"Fleur, so nice to see you!" Ron said enthusiastically. Padma smiled, but the warmth never reached her eyes.

"You too, Ron." A few seconds passed. "Allo, 'Arry." Fleur said, a trifle surprised.

"Oh, um, hey Fleur." He said, distractedly.

"Listen up, Fleur you're with Harry on the FireBolt, Professor Lupin-"

"Remus."

"Remus, then, just follow us. Let's move." Draco patted the back of his broom indicating Hermione to climb on. She suppressed a shudder and adjusted her robes.

Fleur poised herself delicately on the broom and shook out her cornflower blue robes. She threw her hair back nonchalantly and her earrings jangled. She placed a delicate arm around Harry's chest.

They took off. Harry led the odd formation with Draco and Padma following. Lupin trailed slightly behind. Fleur tightened her clutch on Harry's robes as Hermione swallowed nervously. Fleur cleared her throat but spoke softly.

"'Arry?"

"Yes, Fleur?" He replied, turning slightly.

"'Arry- you-..." She seemed slightly agitated. "You do not find me attractive?"

Harry almost fell off his broom. "Eh? Fleur, I'm not off my knockers, of course I find you, um, attractive."

Fleur smiled and sighed, then her face fell. "But you do not act in zis way! Always you are bored when I come. Nobody 'as done zis to me."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realise..." Harry blushed severely.

"Zat is okay. I like you, 'Arry, you are always honest wiz me." She planted a quick kiss on his cheek.

Harry's ears turned red. He glanced around but no-one seemed to have noticed except Remus, who was grinning madly. Without warning, Fleur burst into wrenching sobs.

"Fleur? Fleur, what's wrong?" Harry was unnerved, his back was getting wet with the salty tears.

"Oh, 'Arry, I broke up wiz Damien! I still cannot believe zis!" She started to cry even more pitifully.

"But- why?"

"He is like ze rest of zem, zey only care for my looks. It ees a curse. He nevair listens to me. All ze boys I 'ave gone out wiz are ze same. All like him, all like zat idiot Quidditch Captain at Hogwarts zat took me to ze dance. What was 'is name?"

"Roger Davies." Harry said quietly.

"Yes! All like him. Zey do not care about anything else...zey are too struck wiz ze way I look." Her accent had gotten steadily worse. "All, 'Arry Pottair, all except _you_."

~*~*~

_The Dementors March..._

The Dementors walked in silence. They had grasped Sirius with their cold hands and were dragging him across the woody floor. The Dementor named Reil glanced at Narcissa. She still held her head up and her back stiff. Her face was dirt streaked and there was dust in her hair, but she still looked regal.

"We are sorry we must do this to those with Veela blood." He said. Narcissa started. "We have been brethren for long."

"You are related to the Veela?"

"The Veela, the Dementors, Banshees and Vampires are of the same breed. We are creatures of old."

Narcissa tried not to look disgusted. She recoiled into herself and her eyes became glassy. She suddenly snapped back to life.

"Sorry to do what?" Reil covered his head with his hood and then slowly lowered the cloth.

The rotting, scab-ridden head was once again visible. The crimson gash had grown blackish-green sharp teeth. The lips opened, revealing a void. Narcissa let out a soft gasp of shock. 

"No..." She whispered, moving back and hitting another Dementor. Before she could move, they had pinned her arms and formed a tight circle.

"Reil, what are you doing? The Dark Lord will not be pleased. He told us to wait till he had spoken with her and then kill her!"

"We must have fresh souls to harvest. The Dark Lord promised us..." Reil replied, drawing closer. His putrid mouth had almost brushed hers...

"Stop!" Commanded the elder Dementor. "I sense minds close by..."

"Damn right you do!" Harry Potter said, coming out of the bushes. They formed a 'V' behind him.

Harry lifted his wand. "_Expecto Patronum!_" He cried. Prongs rose to life. The buck galloped right into the middle of the Dementors huddle.

They cowed back in terror, but held fast in the centre. Reil had almost started to suck out Narcissa's soul. Prongs whinnied and tried to butt it's way in, but in a puff of frustrated smoke, melted away.

"You have to do it with me. Concentrate on a happy thought, we have to stop them!" Harry yelled.

"_Ex- expecto patronum!_" Hermione cried uncertainly. A misty form appeared, human-like in form. She was draped in a toga, carried a book in one hand and a sword in the other. "Oh my God, that's Athena, the Goddess of learning!"

Athena strode forward slashing her dissipating sword as Harry's buck, which reappeared, fought beside her.

Behind them, Narcissa's body jerked.

"_Expecto Patronum_." Padma said, with a hint of impatience. A clear, beautiful Raven appeared and started to drive the Dementors back.

All of a sudden, the Dementors rose as one. With a mighty effort, they tightened the circle. As they completed this maneuvre, Harry saw at least three Dementors crumble to dust under the wings, hooves and sword of their Patroni. The force was too strong, and with a last effort, all three vanished into air.

Draco heard his mother give a sudden gasp from behind the living wall. _..the gift those traitorous Dementors stole from me..._ He heard a voice say in his head. Without thinking, he strode up to the menacing huddle.

Harry was now on his knees, mumbling about his parents and the others looked scared. Draco couldn't understand why he was unaffected. He certainly was affected before, when Sirius Black had escaped and the Dementors fleeted like shadows around the school. But then many things were different then, too many things.

"Release her." He said. His voice was clear and unwavering. The Dementor lowered it's hood. For a second it seemed in indecision.

Draco glared at the sightless head with all his power. The Dementor shrunk back and bowed down. There was no sign of knees, but the rim of the Dementor's robe merely crinkled up.

"We pay allegiance to the Sorceror's heir, for he was chosen by our Lord." Draco swallowed. Behind the bowing Dementor the others, too, followed suit.

Reil, who was holding Narcissa, remained upright till Draco came. He released her body and bowed his head.

"Forgive me, my Lord." Draco did not reply. He held Narcissa's limp body in his arms.

"Mum?" He whispered. "Mum, please...no- please, mum..." He lifted her into his arms and carried her to where the others stood. He placed her gently on the ground. Her eyes remained closed.

"Draco-..." She said, suddenly, her eyes sealed shut. "My Draco- Padfoot, help- Padfoot." She clutched his robes and then released them, her lucidity gone.

"Padfoot." Draco said to himself. He had heard the story from Hermione, of course, his father had told him Black was innocent. He just never knew his mother knew him. Draco turned to the Dementors. "Release Sirius Black."

The Dementors thrust a dishevelled Sirius to the front. He collapsed and kept moaning incoherently.

"Voldemort sent you." Reil stepped forward and nodded in assent. "But I am your master's heir, I command you now."

"Yes, my Lord." Reil said.

"Good, I will need you." Draco stopped and swallowed. "I need you for my army. But for now you will cease to plague us. Wait in the woods, I do not require you here." The Dementors turned and silently glided away.

"Draco- how-..?" Harry began to ask.

"Not now. Mum, are you-...?" Draco took her hand into his as Harry, Ron and Padma helped Sirius. Hermione placed a hand on Draco's shoulder.

"Her soul is- partly gone...she will have moments of lucidity, but otherwise..." She squeezed his shoulder.

"Why doesn't she open her eyes?"

"It's one of the first things Dementors do. They take away the sight. The eyes are the windows of the soul." 

"Mum, please?" Draco tugged at his hair as his mother's head lolled to the front.

"Draco..." She said, suddenly smiling.

"Mum, I want you to meet Hermione Granger." He said, formally. "I love her."

Narcissa groped for Hermione and touched her cheek. "I trust you, Draco." She stopped. "I- I'm sorry- I told Lucius...I meant-...for your own good. I am sorry." She gasped and clutched Draco's hand again. "Tell Celeste- her father...Celeste-" Narcissa's face contorted again and her grip loosened.

"She's not dead. I don't care. As long as she's not dead." Draco said. Hermione put her arms around Draco's shoulders.

"As long as you love her." She said softly. "She'll always be alive."

"She's my mother, bloody hell! Voldemort is going to pay dearly for this." He said, savagely. Hermione went cold, but hugged him tighter.

"I'll love you no matter what you do, Draco Malfoy. I love you." She said. 

Draco glanced at her, gratitude and hope in his eyes. "Thank you Hermione. You don't know what that means to me."

And he kissed her.

---  
|| _The Dementors circle nearby..._

"I did not know the Sorceror chose an heir." The elder Dementor said.

"Could you not feel it? T'was the same with Slytherin. Better to follow Sorceror Valwracen than Voldemort." Reil replied.

"He is but a boy."

"The Sorceror chose him. How else could we know his name? It was whispered to us aeons ago."

The air in front of the Dementors started to shimmer slightly. A figure appeared, draped in ebony raiments.

"Where are the prisoners?" Lord Voldemort asked softly.

"They have been released on command of Sorceror Valwracen." Reil replied boldly.

Voldemort's hood fell back. His eyebrow twitched. "Sorceror _Valwracen_? I am not aware of such a being."

"Sorceror Draco Argentus Valwracen Malfoy, heir of the Sorceror." Reil said.

Voldemort's eyes narrowed. "Draco Malfoy..." He hissed.

"That's my name, don't wear it out." Draco said, calmly. He had faced the Sorceror, Voldemort was a mere drop in the miry puddle.

"The Malfoy Dragon is not such a weakling after all. Who are you to contest my right?" 

"I am the Sorcerors heir." He felt a jolt of electricity as he said the words. "You are but his heir's heir."

"Then I challenge you to a wizard's duel." Draco laughed.

"There is no need, Tom. We will draw in battle. Besides, I think my friend here would like the honour of shedding your vile blood." Harry stepped out from behind Draco.

This time Voldemort laughed. "The Sorceror's heir and Gryffindor's fight together. Truly a battle to experience."

"You will, Tom. _Very_ vividly." Draco hissed as Voldemort disappeared in a swirl of dust.

---  
|| _A quiet London alleyway..._

Draco tapped the thirteenth brick from the left with his staff. Noiselessly, it slid out, displaying a spell-lock pad. Draco disarmed it in a few seconds. For almost a minute, nothing happened, then the wall of the alley moved apart like well oiled machinery. Inside was a glistening silver wall. 

An ornate Dragon was set in large emerald stones, breathing onyx-studded fire. Above the Dragon, burnished silver cursive writing proclaimed 'Malfoy Manor'. 

"Draco Argentus Valwracen Malfoy bids you let us in." Draco said. The Jewels glittered and Draco placed a hand on the wall, indicating the others to do so as well. They felt the familiar tug at the navel as they were pulled in by the lavishly expensive Portkey.

Hermione gasped. There was huge wrought silver arch and tall fence running the length of the property. The huge, turreted manor rose like a shadow over the cliff. The sea could be heard pounding relentlessly against the jagged rock face. An hissing silver snake spouted dark green water which sparkled.

Behind the house, a great netted structure could be seen, and the hissing of snakes heard. To the right a large pit of fire burned- green fire- like everything else. Draco started to disarm the eighteen curses on his frontal arch.

Harry glanced again at Sirius. His face once again had the gaunt, hunted look of Azkaban. He was cradling Narcissa in his sinewy arms. The gates creaked and swung harshly open.

"Quick, we only have ten seconds!" He dashed through as the others followed. Harry took Fleur's hand as they ran across. A hole opened in the right arch and a sharp blade whistled through the air, barely missing Ron.

"Your family doesn't kid about it's privacy policy, does it?" Harry gasped.

"It is taken very seriously." Draco replied, with such a straight face that Harry almost missed the twinkle in his eye.

Draco strode up to the door and rung the bell. In a second, his servant answered. "Master Malfoy, is Lady Narcissa with you?" He seemed agitated.

"Yes, Darius, let us in quickly."

"I am sorry for letting the Dementors take her, Master Malfoy."

"Good- now quickly Darius, let us in." Sirius glanced at the house.

"So this is where Narce lived after that-" He stopped mid-murmur. Lupin's glance was comforting, but had an odd quality to it. The glance of a conspirator. Darius opened the other entrance and they all walked in.

The green lamps lit automatically as they entered. Draco turned and faced the troupe, his back erect and his face thrown back- every inch an aristocrat.

"Welcome to Malfoy Manor."

---  
---


	9. Dulce Domus

**Harry Potter & the Trident's Curse**  
---  
_If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,  
Or you can walk with Kings- nor lose the common touch,  
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,  
If all men count with you, but none too much;  
If you can fill the unforgiving minute  
With sixty seconds' worth of good distance run,  
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,  
And- which is more- you'll be a man, my son!   
_ |If- Rudyard Kipling|  
--- 

**Part 9-** Dulce Domus

_Malfoy Manor..._

Draco sat outside his mother's chambers disconsolately. She had not been lucid for a whole day. The others were beginning to get restless. Dumbledore's quest for the Healer was urgent. They couldn't wait longer than another day.

"Draco..." He looked up.

"Mia."

"You have a beautiful home." She smiled. "It's very- large..."

"And cold, and gloomy, and dank. It's more like a fucking dungeon than house. I bet you've never seen a house made of flagstone before." Draco refused to smile back.

"No, I haven't. It's unique." Hermione glanced into the room. "How's your mother?"

"Sirius Black's still with her. Keeps babbling, she can't even hear him anyway." Draco stopped and glanced at her. "I didn't know they knew each other so well."

"Neither did I." Hermione stopped. "Draco, you have to tell me. What happened back there? I know you've been hiding something from me for some time."

"It's unfair, I can fool anyone but you."

Draco stopped and looked down. The time was ripe. He took a deep breath and told her.

---  
|| _The library, Malfoy Manor..._

Harry glanced around at the shelves around him. Possibly every imaginable book was stacked on those tiers. He looked closer at the titles, many could not be read. The binding was dusty, but looked quite unworn...all except one. Harry glanced around quickly and pulled out the book. For a second nothing happened. 

Then the shelves started to jerk apart, a slight screeching noise pervaded the room. A dark passageway opened up, with a feebly glowing light at the end of it. Harry smiled to himself.

"Lumos!" He muttered and started to step in.

"_Arrête-toi!_ Stop, 'arry- no!" Harry halted as Fleur Delacour yelled.

"Fleur, what is it?" Harry asked.

"You must not step in zere! It will kill you,-" She made a slicing motion with her dainty fingers. "-if you do not 'ave a person wiz Malfoy blood beside toi!" She muttered a french spell under her breath and suddenly a life-size doll of Harry appeared in her arms.

"Watch." She said as she tossed the simulacrum in. As it crossed the shadowy threshold a silvery blade, not unlike the one at the gate, sliced it in half. As it fell to the floor, the doll's body seemed to trigger some sort of magical ambush. Captivity Charms bound it to the floor as some magic Harry had never seen before reduced the body to a heap of fine brown dust. As the last of it crumbled, it combusted. The ashes disappeared completely under the flames, which, after burning all remnants of the intruding object, snuffed out.

It seemed as if nothing had ever happened in the dark corridor.

"Ouch." Harry said. Fleur slid the book back into place and the grim passageway closed. "Thanks."

"You are welcome, anytime." Fleur's accent had lightened considerably. Harry noticed that it was only when she was excited or upset that it sounded thickly french.

"So, you've been here before?" He kept his voice casual.

"Yes, Draco and me are very good friends." Harry tried not to feel the twinge of jealousy that invaded his mind.

"I'm surprised you two never dated." Fleur laughed.

"Oh, 'arry, of course we were, how you say...- together, for some time. We told each uzzer we could- date other people...then I met zis idiot Damien and he met zis 'ermiohnay and we are just good friends." Fleur said it without a trace of embarrassment or jealousy.

"Friendship is a great thing." Harry said.

"It has it's merits. But, sometimes, it is not enough." Fleur touched Harry's hand. He wanted to draw it away but it remained resolutely fixed there. He told himself that he didn't feel the chill go down his spine as she touched him.

"But Fleur- what about Cho?" Harry said, weakly. _Perfect, Harry, go to your last defence, the current girlfriend._

"Do you love her?"

Harry stopped. "No..." He faltered. "But Fleur- I don't love you either."

"Ah, but you _could_. How long have you and Sho-" She stumbled over the name. "Been going together?"

"Since year five...three years."

"Why?"

"Well...she's pretty...and popular- she's nice, too. She likes quidditch..." Harry stopped. "What are you smiling at, Fleur?"

"I have an idea. 'Arry, I am a Seeker, also, so I'll tell you what. You and I will play each uzzer, if I win, you will consider my offair, if you win, I will nevair ask for more zan friendship."

"But- what about the teams?"

"We will 'ave this match when we get back to Hogwarts." Harry looked down.

"Fleur, I don't mean to sound boastful, but...I am quite good at Quidditch." Fleur smiled.

"I know, 'Arry Pottair, but so am I."

---  
|| _One of the guest bedrooms..._

Ron Weasley sat on the edge of his bed. A large, full length enamelled mirror reflected his gaze.

"Well, this isn't how I expected to spend Graduation Day and after." He said, to noone in particular.

The mirror in front of him clouded. "Really?" It said. Ron jumped back.

"Eh, mirror's don't talk!" He yelled.

"Don't be foolish, Ronald Weasley, do you live in the Wizarding World or not?"

Ron nodded and calmed. "Sorry. So, what's your name?" As he said these words, the haze in the mirror started to arrange itself into a crude figure. Slowly, the lines became finer and imbued with more colour.

"I am Galatea. Ga-la-tay-ah, _not_ Galatee." Ron stared open-mouthed. The figure had formed into a beautiful woman of around seventeen with long blonde hair and large grey-blue eyes. Her complexion was pale in an ethereal way, but her body was not unnaturally thin. She was not fat, but rather curvaceous. She resembled Narcissa Malfoy and to an extent, Fleur Delacour.

"Wow- I mean, hey..." He said.

"So, tell me your worries, Ronald Weasley. I will ease the burdens of your world." Her voice was mellifluous, her accent tinted Scottish.

"I don't know what I'm going to do!" He burst out savagely. "Percy's already personal Aide to Fudge, I mean, he's practically the Minister. Fred and George's Weasley's Wizard Wheezes stores are a complete success. Ginny's doing so well at Potions that Snape actually _likes_ her, Harry's going to be one of the commanders of the war, Hermione's the smartest witch in over a century...but me? What am I going to do?"

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't know." Ron said bitterly. He stopped and then looked up. "But even that-that's all right. It's just that now Hermione's with Draco Malfoy." Galatea's face suddenly twisted.

"What? He never told me!" Her voice became shrill.

"Well, he is. What's so great about Malfoy that she can love him and not me?" Galatea's face assumed a haughty sneer.

"Draco Malfoy is perfection embodied. I will talk to you on the condition that you _never_ say a word against him." Ron snorted.

"Hermione and now you. How come everyone I talk to starts to love someone else?"

"But I saw you with another in the hallway. Dark skinned, pretty girl- wearing blue?"

"Padma Patil- but I don't know. I think she only likes me because I'm friends with the 'great' Harry Potter and we have more money now. I don't think she likes me for _me_."

"Then why are you with her?"

Ron shifted uncomfortably. "Well, 'cause something is better than nothing, right?"

"What about Fleur Delacour? I have seen you stare at her." Galatea said serenely.

"Well, Harry hasn't talked to me yet, but I saw him and Fleur holding hands. I can tell, they like each other. And that's another thing, Harry doesn't talk to me anymore. We were such great friends...till Malfoy came along. Now Herm avoids me and Harry and Draco are hitting it off. This would have never happened if Malfoy had just left us alone." Galatea seemed about to say something cutting but stopped.

"Yes...he should have just left you- alone."

"Left _who_ alone?" Draco Malfoy walked through the doors. "Galatea! I told you not to talk to guests. I might have to confine you to just a few mirrors if this keeps up."

"I'm sorry Draco, I just get excited when we have guests." 

"Yeah, well. Anyway, left _who_ alone?" He asked. Ron's face coloured.

"Draco, you have a new girlfriend." Galatea said accusingly. Draco in turn glanced at Ron.

"Yeah, well..." He repeated uncomfortably.

"You promised to tell me about _everything!_!" Her voice felt like shattered glass. "You broke your promise!"

"So _what_, you're not real anyway." Galatea's eyes filled with tears. "By Slytherin, Tea-..." He pronounced the 'a' at the end. "I didn't mean-...Tea, please-"

"You _did_ mean it. Good_bye_ Draco Malfoy, I thought we were _friends_!" She turned and her figure started to move farther away in the mirror.

"Galatea!" Draco hit the mirror with his hands. "I'm sorry! Come back here."

The figure didn't stop.

"Fine, you've forced me- _ceasaeum et accium!_" He pointed his staff at the mirror and the figure stopped dead. Slowly, Galatea came back into view.

"Let me GO!" She yelled.

"Malfoy, just leave her be, will you?" Ron interjected. Galatea turned to him.

"Ronald, do not command him." She said, through gritted teeth.

"Look Tea, I'll introduce you to her later, I swear."

"Fine, now let me go. She'd better be nice!" He lowered his wand and Galatea disappeared.

"Who the hell is she?" 

"Slow down, loverboy. She isn't real. If you had read anything in your entire life you would know that."

"Eh?"

"Galatea was the perfect being _created_ by Pygmalion. I created her, that's why she thinks I'm perfect." 

"But- why? All that trouble..."

"Well, everyone needs a friend, right?"

---  
|| _Draco's chambers, the left wing..._

Harry walked through the huge silver doors inscribed with a green dragon. Draco's chambers started with a large living room. It had a WizVis, WizardVision, set in the middle with large black leather chairs all around it. The walls were hung with posters of popular singers and actresses, dominated by a large one of the Weird Sisters. To the right hung a poster of the Rouen Rangers, a high-ranking French Quidditch team and a poster of the Glasgow Grindylows, the premier Scottish team.

Harry pushed open the door to Draco's bedroom, curious. In the middle stood a large four-poster bed draped with green chiffon hangings. An enormous chest of drawers and cupboard stood to the right of it and a large emerald studded mirror beside it. Pictures of Draco from babyhood to adolescence glared at them from the walls. A large painting of Rouen, France stood to one side. 

Harry advanced to the cupboard and opened it quietly. He gasped, apart from the usual Robes hung perfectly tailored Gucci and Armani Muggle clothes. Baggy dark coloured buttoned shirts, turtlenecks and black trousers populated the space along. He didn't seem to own a single pair of jeans or t-shirt, or anything light coloured. Black, green and dark wine were the only colours present. A classic black leather jacket hung to one side with gloves. 

Leather shoes and a pair of wine coloured boots stood at the bottom. Harry opened the other half of the cupboard. Draco's dress robes and party clothes hung there. Harry glanced briefly at the flamboyant _haute couture_ wear.

_Only Draco Malfoy could pull this stuff off._ He thought, looking at a sparking black shirt. He closed the cupboard and glanced around the room. On top of the dresser stood numerous oddly shaped bottles. Gels, hair dye, hair spray, deoderants, cologne, aftershaves and creams stared back at him.

Harry smiled, he knew Draco was vain. A flash of movement caught his eye. Above the bed stood pictures of Draco's friends. Harry glanced over it, Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy Parkinson were conspicuously absent from the hangings. Instead, most were pictures of extremely alluring girls; almost all of them with blonde hair and blue or green eyes. Each picture had the girl's name scribbled on it with a message to Draco.

Harry recognised a few. The largest, and obviously the newest was Hermione's, which waved and smiled at Harry, Fleur's picture winked at him and waved and Parthenope's glanced haughtily at him. Harry thought he recognised a few teenaged WizVis actresses. One picture which didn't move caught his eye, Harry gaped, it was from Natalie Portman.

"Isn't she a Muggle?" He asked himself aloud.

"Yes, but a very pretty one, don't you think?" Harry whirled around. "Nice to see you're making yourself at home."

"Ah, Draco- well, just curious." Draco smiled.

"That's okay. Admiring my old girlfriends?" Harry laughed.

"How come I don't see Crabbe and Goyle and Pansy?"

"Are they friends?" Draco glanced up at the waving pictures. "Pretty, aren't they? So, Fleur tells me that you might be going out with her."

Harry blushed. "Well- that is to say, um-..."

"Ah, still at that stage, are we?" Draco pulled back a curtain to reveal a sort of music player. "Want to listen to some music? I have some Muggle stuff."

"You do?" Harry moved closer and read the CD titles. "Blink 182, Metallica, Savage Garden, Third Eye Blind...Eminem-"

"Oh yeah, let's play that. I like Eminem." Draco put in the CD and turned up the volume. "Anyhow, I need to get some books and all, we're leaving tomorrow." He yelled, over the loud music.

"Can I come?" Draco hesitated for a split second.

"Sure." He said. He muttered a spell and a trapdoor opened underneath the large rug. Draco eased himself into the passage and Harry followed.

As they walked past, each torch flickered to life. Draco tapped a stone to his right twice and an opening appeared. Harry followed Draco through. He blinked in the murky blackness, they were in a high ceilinged room, not unlike the library, with books covering the shelves. The only thing, instead of tables and chairs were jail cells. Harry could see metal manacles through the grimy bars of the cell. In the centre of the room were huge iron and wood implements. Harry didn't even want to know what they were for.

Draco caught his look. "These are the dungeons. In the centre over there is the rack, our collection of thumbscrews is hanging over there, the waterwheel is near the pool- you can't really see it and our 'chair' is over to the left. It's where anyone who offends the Malfoys are tortured."

Harry looked closer at the instruments, he could swear that there were bloodstains on them. "Ever seen anyone get the treatment?"

Draco fixed him with a glance. "Potter- look, I'm just going to call you Potter, it's too much trouble calling you Harry."

"Fine, Malfoy." Harry said smoothly.

"Sometimes, Potter, sometimes I never know what you're thinking." Draco chuckled.

"It's easy with you, Malfoy." Draco glanced up.

"Oh, really?" He said, mockingly. "And _why_ is it so easy?"

"Because you _never_ think, Malfoy." Harry said, laughing. Draco's self-assured smiled flickered for a second and all of a sudden he began to laugh.

"Well, Potter, you actually _can_ think of snappy repartees. Congratulations." Draco stopped laughing. "It feels amazingly odd to laugh in the Dungeons."

"What did you want from here anyway?"

Draco evaded his eyes. "Some books- ah, here they are." Draco took down a couple of books and quickly hefted them into his bag.

Harry glanced down, he had the distinct impression Draco didn't want him to see the books he was taking. Harry smiled to himself, deciding to use an old trick he had used on Cedric Diggory.

"_Diffindo._" He whispered. The seams of the bag ripped.

"Shit!" Draco muttered, as his books slid onto the dungeon floor.

Harry saw some of the titles as Draco picked them up. _Before the Destruction: Facts and Fiction, Advanced Curses and Hexing, Beginners Necromancy, MageWars in History, Duelling: Swords and Spells._

"Had a nice long look, Potter?"

"What are you trying to do, Malfoy? Those are Dark Arts books."

"No really? If you hadn't noticed, this is DeathEater Central." He said, sarcasm edging his voice.

"What's going on?"

"Go ask Hermione. She'll tell you."

---  
|| _The Malfoy Clan Gallery..._

Padma Patil walked through the large hall filled with paintings. Most regarded her haughtily, some jeered. She took no notice of them. She stopped in front of a particularly old one. The painting depicted a dark skinned woman, the only one in the room. 

She wore a beautiful blue silk dress and her hands were folded in her lap, clutching a lace handkerchief. Her eyes were a hazelnut brown and her hair was arranged in intricate raven ringlets. She looked down at Padma.

"And who be ye?" She asked, in a clear but cultured voice. "Ye are not of the Malfoy blood." Her lip curled.

"My name is Padma Patil."

"Thou are not one of Purity, it is clear to be seen."

"Who are you?" The woman's nose lifted higher.

"Lady Ravenna Valwracen Argentus Malfoy." She said. "What be your business, girl?"

"I am here with some of my friends. Narcissa Malfoy has had an- accident."

"Ah, the old consort of my uncle's heir."

"Your uncle?"

"Salazar Slytherin, ye know of 'a?"

"'a?"

"I forget thou are not familiar with my tongue. Ye know of him?"

"Yes, everyone knows of him...but I didn't know he had a sibling. Who?"

"Tis none of thine concern. Ye are on a Quest?"

"For a Healer."

"So the prophecy unfolds. Be ye of strong heart, thine world shalt change for eternity." Lady Ravenna smiled. "But then ye know little of this. I give thee one word of caution, for I realise ye are the one in the prophecy-"

"What?"

"'The lady of the Raven's house', ye are mentioned in the prophecy. So heed my syllables." She stopped.

_"The Lady of the Raven's house_

Wilt break her sacred joining Vows.

The one of Flame will walk no more

If the Traitors walk with the Sorceror.

The Maid of Undead's wish shalt come to be

When the Lord comes forth with his plea.

But she too will join her minions state

Arion's rider will fulfill her Love's fate."

"I don't understand."

"Lady of the Raven's house, tis all the news I may bear. Now haste from here, tis the time to dine." Lady Ravenna settled back into her regal pose as if she nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

The dinner bell chimed.

---  
|| _The Dinner Hall..._

Fleur and Harry walked into the green-lit hall. The light flickered over the silver plates eerily and the shadows loomed grandiose over the table. Draco, Hermione, Padma, Sirius, Remus and Ron were already seated at the table. It was made of cut and polished crystal, jarringly modern in contrast with the rich decor of the room. Draco motioned for them to be seated.

He leaned back and picked up a large bronze club. With a calculated swing he hit the large gong behind him. The sound rung pure, the table vibrated ever so slightly. Precisely after the last chimes had dissipated, the large double-doors to the Hall swung open.

With measured steps, servants brought out platter after platter of food. The last dish was brought in and the room was filled with servants. Ron gaped in awe, there were at least ten in the room and every one of them ghosts.

Draco struck the gong again and the covers lifted off the dishes. The platters rose off the table and arranged themselves in a lethargically revolving circle, pausing at each plate. The servants faded away from view. 

Hermione glanced down at her plate and swallowed uncertainly. She directed her gaze to Fleur and Draco, both were enjoying their food. Remus and Sirius seemed to be managing quite well, as was Padma. Harry, Ron and she glanced at each other.

Draco saw them. "I daresay you aren't used to the food?" He drawled.

"Well...that depends, what is it?" Harry said. Draco smiled, slightly patronisingly.

"Well, the shredded stuff is _Choucroute_, it's mainly cabbage. Your soup is _Vichysoisse_, cold fish soup, the meat is steak, plain and simple, only thing it's marinated in red wine. The dessert is _blancmange_, try it, it's excellent. The other dishes on the table are merely for taste, if you dare, that is." He smiled. "We also have some wine- it will be served after dinner with your chocolate mint." 

There was an odd kind of silence for a few seconds. Nobody seemed sure of what to say. Nobody wanted to volunteer to begin the conversation.

"So Ron-..." Padma began, but something interrupted her.

"Master Malfoy, sir!" Darius whooshed through the wall.

Draco looked shocked. "_Darius!_ The dinner code- and in front of guests too! Strict silence!"

"But Sir, it is a matter of the utmost and vital import!"

"Spit it out, then."

"Lord Malfoy is at the front door with the Master, sir." Padma gasped. Sirius went white.

"We can't let them take Narcissa." He said.

Draco glanced at him. "Nobody's doing anything of the sort. We'll finish our meal. Darius, invite Lord Malfoy in, it is his home after all, and extend your invitation to his companion."

Darius looked unsure but bowed and turned nonetheless.

"What are we going to do?" Ron said, worriedly.

"He's going to kill us." Padma said, with resignation.

"Not before I kill him." Harry muttered in response.

Lupin drew out his wand as Hermione steeled herself for the ordeal. She had never felt such loathing rise in her heart as now. A hatred as never before split her soul like a dark chasm. She said nothing.

Draco remained calm. "Let them come. Didn't you think they would?"

All of a sudden the doors once more burst open. The glowering red eyes of Voldemort stared piercingly at all in the room. Lucius Malfoy, shrouded in black, cowed behind.

"Would you like to dine with us?" Draco asked calmly. Voldemort looked surprised and took a step back.

"Where's Narcissa?" He hissed.

"You murdered her already, why ask?" Draco replied coolly. Voldemort's face contorted as Lucius Malfoy whitened..

"My God!" Voldemort said, reverting to his Muggle past. "But, did she say anything- about your sister?"

Draco's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What do you want with Celeste?"

Voldemort turned away. Lucius stepped forward. "You've brought filth into my house, boy."

Draco stood up. "No. It's _my_ house. I'd advise you to leave right now. You killed my mother and I shan't forget." Lucius backed away at the rage in his son's eyes.

Draco looked murderous, he blinked his eyes and, as with Pansy Parkinson, channelled his power. Lucius was on his knees, mumbling incoherently. Draco stepped closer and he flinched. Voldemort suddenly came between them.

"Enough!" He commanded. "You have been too insolent with the Dark Lord. _Crucio_." He hissed.

Draco hefted his staff out lazily. "_Incanteum Reflecto, Magnificus Deca._" He said. The jet of light suddenly pulsed and reversed direction, ten times more intense than before. It struck Lord Voldemort in his abdomen and he collapsed on the floor with a blood-curdling yell.

Within a second he was up again. "I am the greatest Dark WIzard in the world, little dragon. Did you think an ancient spell would vanquish me?"

"I can do more that that." Draco replied coolly. "Go from here, both of you, or the next spell will be fatal." Draco looked capable of it. His eyes were angry and his face contorted into a grimace of anger. "I've learned a couple of things, father, and I don't need _you_ any more."

Only Harry and Hermione witnessed the scene with minimal surprise. Only they knew of the Trident's Curse and Draco's fate. Draco was Sorceror Daemersgrale's heir.

Voldemort turned his glowering eyes onto Draco's. "You act as if you are Salazar Slytherin, boy." He said quietly.

"He _was_ my ancestor." Voldemort's face looked uncertain.

"Then you and I are- related." Harry looked aghast at such a normal conversation taking place between Voldemort and Draco Malfoy.

"It's a pity, that." Voldemort appeared not to have heard him.

"You, one of Slytherin's blood, consorts with Harry Potter?" He said venomously, turning his eyes onto Harry, who had stood up.

"He is a- friend." Draco said, Harry looked surprised, but no more so than Voldemort.

"Then- I will kill your unwisely chosen friend."

"Ah, like you killed him when he was a baby? Like you killed him in the Chamber of Secrets? Like you killed him after the Triwizard Tournament? Like you killed him at the All-England Quidditch Cup?" Draco let his scorn sink into him. "I _don't_ think so...what I _do_ think, however, is- that _he_ will kill _you_." Draco smiled maliciously. "Darius, show our departing guests out."

Draco Malfoy turned and sat down at the dinner table. The only evidence of his shock were his shaking fingers.

The clock chimed nine.

---  
---


	10. Prophecies and Portkeys

**Harry Potter & the Trident's Curse**  
---  
_Coincidence? Surely you know there is no such thing... Destiny is busily at work.  
_ |HPTC-Sorceror Daemersgrale|  
--- 

**Part 10-** Prophecies and Portkeys

_The Plane of the Trident.._

Three minds were present in the room- omnipresent rather. They had attributes similar to that of a God; they held power of life and controlled Destiny. Of course, it was impossible to tell whether the Trident actually controlled Destiny or was merely a pawn in it's game. As impossible as proving the Deeper Meaning of Life.

Life itself was different on the Trident Plane. The souls of the Trident existed and interacted, but not in bodily or verbal fashion. They had passed far beyond the mundane and ineffectual language of mere words.

Every now and then, however, perhaps to appease nostalgic sentiment, they would once again imprison themselves in their old bodies. Even pure perfection could be tiring.

In a flash, the Trident had their old limitations back. They slipped easily back into the space-time continuum. The chaos around them twisted, and then formed itself to a perfectly white and sterile room. The walls gleamed and were reflected off the polished floor tiles. So jarringly perfect that the surroundings seemed surreal.

The Trident followed suit with King Arthur. A small, round table was placed in the centre of the room with three coloured chairs with it. One was the darkest black, the other the deepest green and the last a blood-red. The greatest Dark Wizard sat on the black chair, the Greatest Wizard sat in the blood-red and the most Intelligent sat on the green.

The Greatest Wizard was Gravero Gryffindor. His stature was dimunitive, but his green eyes gleamed determination. He absently pushed back his spiky black hair, unused to corporeal constraint. He glanced quickly at the other two at the table, but his set gaze went back to the one on the green chair.

_She_ was Helaine Wrathstorme. Tall and willowy, with a pale complexion. Her hair was a wavy dark brown with streaks of honey. Her eyes were piercing blue and her lips firmly set. Even reassembled, her eyes and face seemed to belay an untold weight tugging incessantly at her soul. The weight of Knowing.

"You were told, Daemersgrale, not to interfere." Gravero said.

"It was decided." Helaine remarked.

"May I remind you that it was decided much before that I would choose an heir this century? And that it would be Draco Argentus Valwracen Malfoy? And that he would fall prey to our Curse?"

Helaine looked up from examining her hands. "It was. But you know the rules, Dae." She half smiled.

"It is the first of the five years of the Ascension, when it is decided whether we remain in the Trident or another will ascend to our place. Your Malfoy is the prime contender for your position." Gravero said, deadpan.

"He displays obvious potential, but I am unsure, Gravero. I am because _he_ is unsure, he _has_ decided to be my heir, but he doesn't believe in himself. I am merely helping."

"And helping yourself." Gravero added.

Daemersgrale smiled maliciously. "It is _you_ that helps yourself, Gravero, to everything- including my wife."

Gravero blushed and then looked doubly surprised. He had obviously forgotten about the extremely human reaction. "I didn't, Daemersgrale. Helaine came to me. You were the one who-"

Helaine hit the table. "Enough! We are the Trident. We must function as one. You know what this bickering does to mortal time. It slows so we may decide and you know what _that_ does to the fabric of reality."

"Of course- reality is then worn thin. Every instance Time is tampered with, reality is eroded. And you know that this decreases our chances of remaining in the Trident. And we all know what happens to Replaced members of the Trident." Daemersgrale shuddered. "They get imprisoned eternally on the dead plane."

"It is the price we pay for our power. Nothing comes free."

"It isn't as if we had a choice." Helaine said, quietly. "Anyhow, the one whom I believe shall replace me is called Hermione Granger, my heir. She is the one in our Curse as well."

"Quite odd, that the Gold and Silver both are being viewed by the Trident." Gravero remarked.

"It gets- ahem, odder-" Daemersgrale mocked. "-Hermione Granger is the best of friends with a boy- a special boy- called Harry Potter." Gravero coughed.

"Ah yes, my heir's heir or some such nonsense. He's up for my position- quite a coincidence, really."

"_Coincidence?_" Daemersgrale hissed. "Surely you know there is no such thing, Gravero. They know each other as we knew each other. Destiny is busily at work."

"Quite- anyway, this Potter boy, he's at odds with your heir's heir, isn't he Daemersgrale?"

"_Tom Marvolo Riddle_" Daemersgrale hissed. "Yes."

"Enough of this small talk- we must not interfere any more."

"But what if my heir requests my help? He _is_ after all, going to battle alone." The Sorceror said.

Gravero looked thoughtful. "You may help...but only if you clear it with the rest of us _before_."

"Very well."

"It is agreed."

"Come then, let us enter it into the Book of Destiny."

In a fraction of a second, the room and all inside it vapourised into nothingness. The three minds melded once more as one and disappeared.

All was well with the Universe.

---  
|| _The Malfoy cliffs..._

Fleur Delacour balanced herself precariously on the very edge of the cliffs. The wind buffeted her face and screamed all around her. She spread out her arms and imagined leaping off the precipice, plunging into the wrathful waves below.

She let her arms fall beside her. _Does even the great Harry Potter understand me?_ She wondered. _Or will it be like all the others, like Roger Davies and Damien and countless others? Draco never loved me, and I never loved him. That relationship was just casual, fun...but I'm so tired of it._

She closed her eyes. _It's so lonely...so very lonely._

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"They're not worth it, Draco." Fleur replied in French.

"Come now, Fleu, what's wrong?" He touched her hand comfortingly.

"Will I ever find true love, Draco?"

"You mean you didn't with me?" Draco asked, his eyes filled with feigned hurt and a smile tugged at his lips. "Fleur, how could you? I loved you so much!"

Fleur started to laugh. "_Mythomane!_" She exclaimed.

"It's not nice to call people complusive liars, Fleu." Draco smiled. 

"Not just anyone, _you_ Monsieur Draco Malfoy." Fleur stopped, she saw Harry in the distance.

"Ah, your chance at love comes along. I'm just going to disappear..." He turned. "Anyway, I need to find some clothes for Mia."

"What 'appened to her old ones?"

"They ripped." Fleur smiled and Draco held up his hands. "Hey, I had nothing to do with it, honest!"

"_Mythomane_." She laughed again.

Draco flashed a charming grin and Disapparated. Harry turned the corner. He jogged, panting, to the spot Fleur was standing on.

"Hey, I thought I saw Malfoy here."

"He thought he 'ad better...disappear. So 'ow are you Harry?" He noticed she made a special effor to say his name properly.

"I'm fine. So what were you an Malfoy talking about?" Harry tried to appear casual.

Fleur's eyes danced. "Harry...you are jealous!"

"Of course not!" He replied, blushing.

"Oh, Harry, what should you be jealous of? Look at his life...his parents?"

Harry glanced up at her concerned face. "Well, at least his parents are alive! Mine are _dead_, Fleur. They're dead." He looked away, embarassed.

Fleur put an arm around his shoulder and hugged him for a minute. "I know they are, Harry. But think...you are an orphan with dead parents...but Draco is an orphan with both of his _alive_."

---  
|| _The porch of Malfoy Manor..._

Draco Malfoy glared at the feebly glowing dawn sun. He remembered the times when it had been his only object of solace. The knowledge that the same sun beat down on the rest of the world. Yet with that came the knowledge that he was so insignificant; the sun would scorch the earth whether he lived or died, loved or hated. And that was how Draco Malfoy found solace in indifference.

But yet, that was what haunted him also. His greatest fear, his greatest salvation. For what Draco Malfoy feared most was being merely a face in the crowd. Of never doing anything memorable. Of dying after having lived a mundane life. Draco Malfoy feared so greatly, that he would never be- unique.

But right now, Draco would have traded uniqueness for anonymity in a heartbeat.

His soul felt as if it was shattered into a million fragments. He had accepted Daemersgrale's deal. He didn't know whether Hermione would love him still...for how could she love a person who would kill hundreds upon thousands? Draco Malfoy knew he would kill people. And he also knew that he would do it without remorse. Why should he care about a nobody- a mere face in the multitudes? A mere droplet in the tide?

But _she_ would care, he knew it as he knew her. She would love him, he knew, but would she stay? And there came the paradox- a burden too heavy for his mind. The fact that he wanted Hermione Granger to stay with him him, but knew that if she did, she would not be _her_, and he loved _her_, so if she did stay with him still then he would not want her to because that wouldn't be her innate nature but if she didn't stay with him they'd both love each other but never be happy or together.

He brushed back his ice-blonde hair. _Life, _he thought, _is not going to be quite as easy as Father said._ The images of his father tellling him his future sprung to life.

_"Your future, boy? It is all decided. You will serve the Dark Lord and become his most trusted aide." Lucius had seemed so sure._

"But, Father-..." Draco had said, but stopped. The minute the words left his lips he knew them to be a mistake.

"But? But? You do not question, you do not query- you merely accept."

"Ours not to question why, ours but to do and die." Draco had whispered.

"What?"

Draco had glanced up but looked down, unwilling to meet his fathers' furious gaze. "The Charge of the Light Brigade- a poem, Father."

"Sometimes I wonder, Draco- which world do you live in? This one, or the one created by you- woven from the threads of your imagination?" Lucius Malfoy always spoke ornately.

"I do not know, father." Lucius had hit him with the back of his hand.

"Listen well, Draco, I will not repeat this again. A Malfoy- a Malfoy always knows."

Draco almost laughed. _If only I knew now._ He thought, bitterly.

Harry glanced at Draco's set face. He wondered how you could describe the expression on it. Cold, hard...but Harry didn't think so. More like pensive, intense- yet also calculating, slightly cruel-evil. And Harry was jealous. Fleur had been right.

Quite intensely jealous of the fact that Draco Malfoy was a 'bad boy'. The one thing that the Boy Who Lived, the conqueror of Evil, the champion of Gryffindor could never hope to be. Harry wondered what it would be like to _be_ Draco Malfoy. To be selfish and not care about the rest of the world. He wondered what it would be like not to be expected to do the 'right thing'. 

Yet through it all Harry Potter knew that he could never be like Draco Malfoy. And that Draco would never be like him.

The front doors burst open with a loud clang. Ron strode out, his robes billowing in the wind and his ears crimson with anger. The veins on his temple started to protrude and he looked rather overblown. In an instant, Harry could see the 'Percyness' of him.

"Lupin just told me-" He paused for effect and then swung his right arm out violently. "That _you_," He pointed his finger accusingly at Draco. "- said that I am to stay _here_."

Draco greeted the outburst with perfect calm. "Yes, you will be of much more use.When we get back to Hogwarts, we'll have thousands of people arriving for the battle- they will need training. The only people who can give them proper sword and hand-to hand combat training is a person who knows how to."

"Well I bloody well don't!"

Draco regarded as he would a slug of extremely low intelligence. "Well, obviously-" He rolled his eyes. "- you will stay here and _recieve_ it from the servants." 

Ron's jaw dropped and he made a queer noise somewhere between choking with indignation and coughing with outrage. 

"Weasley, if you need to throw up, you _could_ go to a bathroom." Draco sneered.

Ron didn't even respond.

"Besides..." Drawled Draco. "Padma, Sirius and Lupin are staying, too. Sirius wants to stay with mum- Narcissa, the full moon's coming up soon, so Lupin's down."

"But- but-..."

"Please, Ron, you'll be of much more help over here." Harry said, gently.

Ron turned on him. "So that's how it is, is it? Not good enough to join your little expedition, am I? Fine."

He sniffed woundedly and Disapparated. "Should have added 'an inferiority complex the size of Russia' to my description of the Weasleys." Draco hissed.

"Shut up, Malfoy."

"Make me, Potter." Harry sighed in exasperation. He had a feeling this was going to be a long day.

"Forget that, we have to leave. This school is in India and to get there on a broom is-is-..."

"Preposterous?" Draco supplied.

"Yes." Harry affirmed.

"It would be much easier to use a public Portkey. There's definitely one in London."

"But can't they be traced?" Fleur asked.

"The one in KnockTurn Alley can't." Draco said, grimly. He glanced at Malfoy Manor once more, turned and started to open the frontal archway.

The front door clicked and Harry made a sort of gasping noise. Draco twisted his neck around and then blew out his breath, relieved. It was only Hermione.

"Herm, what- what happened?" Harry managed to choke out.

Hermione looked slightly nervous but determined. "Nothing _happened_, Harry."

"But- but those aren't your clothes!" He exclaimed. Hermione looked down.

"Oh, you actually take notice then?" She said, vengefully. "Or is it just since Draco arrived on the scene?"

She was paying him back, Harry knew, for not realising and accepting her feminity in school. Every dance the same old story, neither Harry nor Ron would actually as her out, but when she went with someone else _both_ would pick him to pieces. It had been only Ron before, but Harry too had done it in a more brotherly fashion.

"But-" Hermione cut him off.

"Why is it that I can never change without you acting as if I should be thrown into St. Mungo's mental ward?" Seven years of the Wizarding World had changed her. St. Mungo's came easier to her lips than 'mental asylum'.

Harry coloured slightly. "No- I'm sorry, Herm, you look really...really-"

"Cool." Draco finished, sauntering up. "I knew mum's clothes would fit you."

"_Mum's_?" Harry choked. "Why are you-"

"My trousers got ripped while I was..um, fencing with Draco yesterday. They're the only one's which I can attach a sword-holster to." Hermione said, smiling to herself.

She re-buckled her heavy scabbard as Harry looked at her incredulously.

She was wearing dark walnut brown leather flared hipsters and styled heavy sandals. Instead of the tunic she wore a sleeveless fitted black vest which showed through her chainmail. The scabbard hung loosely at her hip. Her hair was SleekEazy'd and gelled straight, her eyes outlined in charcoal black pencil and her lips the same brown as her trousers.

She seemed like a different person, her aura of restrained scholarliness was nonexistent and she looked darkly beautiful. Draco casually placed an arm round her waist and led her to the frontal arch.

"You look amazing." He whispered.

---  
|| _The Gryffindor Dormitories..._

Sylvoren Trelawney jerked upright in her bed. It was yet six o'clock, none else had awoken. She felt a systematic throbbing at her temple and smiled to herself.

"So the Quest begins." She whispered and reached under her bed.

A musty book with bronze clasp opened to her touch. Without even a whispered command the pages turned. Each page a prophecy, and each prophecy having infinite consequences. Some were written in quatrain form, such as those by the outcast Nostradamus. He had breached Wizarding Law and revealed forbidden secrets to the Muggle World. Some did not rhyme at all. Sylvoren reached the double page she was looking for.

Two prophecies about the same event spread before her. The first was quite simple, the second more complex.

_"The Lady of the Raven's house_

Wilt break her sacred joining Vows.

The one of Flame will walk no more

If the Traitors walk with the Sorceror.

The Maid of Undead's wish shalt come to be

When the Lord comes forth with his plea.

But she too will join her minions state

Arion's rider will fulfill her Love's fate." 

"Upon winged horse and dragon scale

With Lightning's brand and Daemersgrale

Tears, blood and steel: the battle will be fought

Upon Leaders of the War, vengeance will be wrought.

The Maid of Undead and Alchemist Divine

Will lose one love they thought thine

The Cassandra will ill-fortune prophesise

Arion's rider will be warned of Love's demise.

The Mage of Lightning in Love unaware

With white iced Veela and her gilded snare.

The Healer will walk forever alone

After War returning to amethyst throne.

Slytherin's heir will walk no more

The world shall never be as it was before.

Two paths diverge for the chill-eyed one

One of evil, one fatally unstoppable once begun.

Sylvoren smiled a satisfied sigh and tucked the book away. She drifted into a vision-haunted, troubled sleep.

Tomorrow her task would begin.

---  
|| _Knockturn Alley, London..._

Harry glanced at the dirty shop windows, mired with streaks of dust. His entrance had not evinced as much excitement as before because he was wearing a heavy black cloak, as were the others. Somehow Draco managed to make even a formless cloak look stylish. Harry glanced back at Hermione and Fleur.

There was no doubt about it, Fleur was far more beautiful. Even the most rose-tinted of eyes could see that. But Hermione was beautiful too, in an unassuming way. Fleur's charms had worldly wiles behind them.

Draco walked into the same shop Harry had seen him in many years ago. Borgin and Burkes. He quickly followed him in.

Draco was already at the desk, his hand on the calling bell. He rung it impatiently.

"Yes? What do you want?" Borgin snapped.

Draco flipped back his hood.

"Master Malfoy!" His tone changed immediately. "How may I be of assistance? How is your father?"

"He is with his Master, Borgin. My companions and I require to arrive at a certain destination- without the authorities finding out."

Borgin's smile faltered slightly. "Of course, of course. Young Master Malfoy is aware of the large costs that anonymity entails?" He asked, moving towards the back of his shop.

"You will be paid well, Borgin." Draco said as the greasy man came back. "I require an Asiatic PortKey."

He carried a smoky grey crystal prism. "Merely touch the facet of the destination you wish to arrive in." 

Borgin left it on the table. "I thought PortKeys were supposed to be nondescript." Harry said.

"That's only if it's in a place where Muggles might find it." Hermione replied.

"Yeah, a Muggle in KnockTurn Alley, Potter? I don't think so." Draco whispered Harry's name. "Okay now, we have to touch the top right facet, that'll take us to Bangalore. I'm sure we can find the school from there."

He placed a hand inside his cloak and drew out a wallet rather than a pouch. He placed a shimmering square of metal on the desk.

"You still take WizCard Gold, don't you?" Draco asked.

"Of course, of course." He replied sliding Draco's card through the SpeedCharge Galleon Check. "There's one PortKey every hour...it's due in a few minutes."

The seconds ticked by in silence. Borgin glanced curiously at Draco's four shrouded companions.

"So, you are holidaying with your friends, Master Malfoy?" He asked at length.

Draco smiled, the PortKey would activate any second. "That, Borgin, is for me to know...and you to _not_." He glanced back. "Mia, a strong forgetfulness Charm please."

"Memorium Erasi." She cried forcefully, as a jet of blue light hit Borgin square on the chest.

He looked up confusedly...his dank shop was empty.

---  
|| _The PortKey destination, Bangalore, India..._

Padma Patil lifted herself to her feet. They were in a small, musty shop. The mosaic on the floor hadn't been cleaned in years. Padma tried to open the door. It was jammed shut.

"_Alohomora!_" She whispered as the door swung open. The sunlight streamed in, illuminating the shop and making it seem even dirtier. Padma stepped out onto a busy road. No cars passed, but a mass of people writhed and weaved through the small street as one. A large gold edged sign hung at the top of the street.

The others came out of the shop. "Welcome to Tantri Bazaar, magical hub of Bangalore City."

Fleur glanced around in astonishment. Contrary to what she had always assumed about India and Indians, they seemed quite normal. Most witches and wizards on the street were dressed in fashionable robes or stylish Muggle clothing. Fleur could have sworn she saw a few branded robes in the milling crowds.

The first thing that Harry noticed was the profusion of non-Indian magic-users in the street. There were almost as many as there were Indian._hate_ sweating!" He gesticulated.

"So, Padma, what do we do now?" Harry asked. Padma smiled.

"We ask." Padma turned and tapped a bright red-haired man of around twenty on the shoulder. "Excuse me."

He looked her up and down and smiled. "Yes? How can I help you?" His accent was mostly neutral, with a guttural edge to it.

"We're looking for the uh, Vidya School for the Gifted, you know it?" Padma smiled.

The man's face furrowed suddenly. "Who are you?"

"We are looking for it, we-" She was interrupted by Draco.

"We want to become students if possible. A friend told us of it." He said smoothly.

The man smiled. "Excellent, my name is Javed- you can call me Jay. I teach the Elemagi at the Institute. I'll take you there."

"Cool." Said Draco. 

"Cool." Padma agreed.

---  
---


	11. Visions of Destiny

**Harry Potter & the Trident's Curse**  
---  
_Not a trace of emotion showed through, even when he smiled. But such marble-like, impressive eyes...like that of a statue formed by the hand of Michaelangelo. Perfect. Too perfect.  
_ |HPTC-Midnight Star|  
--- 

**Part 11-** Visions of Destiny

_The Vidya Institute for the Gifted..._

The group of five stood outside the Principal's door uncomfortably. Jay was inside talking to Vidya and she would come out in a minute. Padma seemed especially tense.

"For Slytherin's sake, Padma, don't get your knickers in a twist, stop worrying." Padma narrowed her eyes at Draco.

"I didn't know the aristocratic Lord Draco Malfoy used commoner slang." She said mockingly.

"You didn't need to bite my head off." Draco replied, a whiny tone entering his voice.

"No, that's _your_ job." She crossed her arms. "What the hell is my mother going to say when she sees I'm here?"

"I'm sure she'll be pleased." Harry offered.

"Bloody hell she will!" Padma hissed. "Why do you think she sent me to boarding school in _England_ with Parvati when she's a _wizard_? She can't stand the sight of us!"

"Oh, come on, Padma, you must be exaggerating."

"No. She hates Parvati and me, we're not 'special', you see."

"I should think everyone iz special, Padma." Fleur said, suddenly. "Besides, you are so good at ze schoolwork and such..."

"But I don't have a talent. Both my parents were gifted and they started the Institute especially to teach their wonderful offspring, but unfortunately Nature dissented and we were born _normal_." Padma sounded bitter.

The door swung open. A short but pretty woman opened it. She looked uncannily like Padma.

"Welcome to Vidya Institute for the- _Padma!_." Her expansive gesture stopped midway. "Javed! This is my _daughter_. She doesn't have a whiff of talent in her, you've been tricked." Javed glanced accusingly at the group.

"Hello, mommy." Padma replied, sarcastically. "_So_ nice to see you again." A stunned silence prevailed. "Um, this is where you tell me how much you've missed me and that I've grown since you last saw me. Incidentally, that would be true since you last saw me- when? Oh, yes, _seven_ years ago when you shoved me in Hogwarts."

Vidya Patil bit her lip. "Come in, Padma, I see you've brought some friends with you. Are you going to Introduce us?"

"Fine. Mother, this is Harry Potter, Fleur Delacour, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger, everyone, this is my mother." Vidya smiled round.

"Quite a star cast you've brought along, Padma. Now, what do you want?" She had turned away from her daughter and addressed Harry.

"Uh, _we_ are looking for someone." Vidya opened a file.

"Who? Students come and go, you know."

"I'm sure you'll remember this one- most probably a girl. A Healer." The file dropped with a clang.

"She told us people would be coming here for her. She said we should only let the person who could answer a riddle know the password to her home." Vidya's brow creased into a typical Padma expression as she rummaged in her drawer for the riddle. "Ah, here we are." She handed it to Harry.

_Just perfect. First that Sphynx and now this._ Harry thought exasperatedly. "I've never seen a riddle like this before. She's given us all these clues to different people." Harry showed the others the loopy writing.

"She told me to tell you that the group which the prophecy foretells will know of all these people. She said that the place where she lives is hidden in the answer." 

_Those who seek me first must answer_

These questions that I do set before.

First tell who is the golden-tongued necromancer

And then the name of the infamous Sorceror.

After that we require the name of the alchemist

And the persona of the Divinator true

Then the Dragon met in a frightening tryst

Ending with the lady of the house of Blue.

"The golden tongued necromancer is Parthenope Czyren." Draco said, uncomfortably. Hermione glanced at him. "I didn't tell you, but her Voice is used to call upon the armies of undead. The Sorceror is Daemersgrale Argentus Mortragen." 

"Um, the alchemist is Celeste LaSeule...and the Divinator true must be Sylvoren- Sylvoren Trelawney." Hermione added.

"The Dragon's definitely Blacknight." Harry said.

"The last'd be Rowena Ravenclaw." Padma glanced up at Vidya, who was studying her lists.

"Quite- quite right. Here is the password. But what about the place she lives?"

"It could be anything." Said Fleur, in despair.

"We do actually have a student...very good at solving these riddles etcetera. Do you want to meet her?"

Harry nodded. "What's her name?"

"Sanna. Sanna Swan."

---  
|| _At Hogwarts, the dungeons of Severus Snape..._

Severus Snape glared into the crimson face of his potion and stirred it once, clockwise. He could still hear Celeste's voice echoing in his head '...I need some help'. Four and a half gruelling months ago. He had accepted, most probably out of guilt. Guilt for rending her fragile psyche and venting his own bitterness on her.

That was a thing Severus Snape did often and he felt guilty for it all. Only when it's effects were most obvious or painful did he make amends. Or when he felt he had been unfair. Under the greasy exterior, a keenly tuned sense of fairness had evolved. Warped slightly, perhaps, by his own experience.

"What about the lacewing, Severus? I can't find it." Celeste asked from accross the room, holding a huge tome in her hands.

Severus swore under his breath. "The _lacewing_! It's been stewing since last full moon. Celeste, this just isn't working, there's simply too much to do." Severus said, feeling a tone of whinyness creep into his voice. He hated that, as he hated forgetting an important task.

"True...are there any students, Severus, that may help us? Honourable ones. Sixth or Seventh year, maybe?"

A frown alighted on Snape's brow. A momentary creasing of skin which was gone in a flash. "I- I do know of one. Not a sixth or seventh year, however. A fifth year. Ginnarel Weasley- a Gryffindor."

Celeste almost smiled at Snape's expression. "Ginny Weasley, you mean, Severus."

"Ginn_arel_. All the Weasley brood have longer names. Fred is Frederick, George is Georgian, Percy is Percival, Bill is William, Charlie is Charles, Ron is Ronald and Ginny is Ginnarel."

"I'm surprised you take so much notice."

"Arthur Weasley is a good man. He helped me after I...defected." Severus clenched his jaw. "His brood, however, are another matter."

"So you'll ask Miss Ginn_arel_ Weasley for help, then? Since you're in so tight with the family and all." Celeste's mouth twitched.

Snape swallowed. "You need not mock me, Celeste."

"Oh, but Severus, it's so _easy_."

---  
|| _Draco's room, the Institute..._

Draco looked in the mirror. As usual, his eyes raked his appearance and his fingers quickly smoothed his mussed hair. This time, though, Draco had another errand. He reached into his backpack for a crystal sphere. He found it and hefted his wand out as well. The sphere was a enchantment container, perfect for carrying complex magic over distance.

With a tap he broke the delicate shell. A pulsing light escaped from it, and with his staff, Draco edged it into the mirror. A delicate flash of light and Galatea was standing before him.

"Hello, Draco. You look cool today." She purred. Draco sighed in contentment. "Why ya still here?"

"We have to solve this riddle and the kid supposed to help us has night classes today. The tight-ass Principal said we have to wait. What the hell does she think we're doing- having a tea party?"

"There's _ages_ of time Draco. And anyway, you can do it. I believe in you."

"You liked Mia?" He glanced at her apprehensively. She laughed, a tinkling, lacy noise.

"She was...'nice'. Different from the other ones, isn't she?"

"Much."

"She's pretty too. And real smart." Draco smiled. He had molded Galatea more American than British and she used their slang. "The only other really smart one was Parry Czyren, but she's scary."

"Yah. I told you you'd like her."

"I know, I know. Hey, where's the red-head? He was kinda cute." Draco could almost feel the bubble-gum pop as the star-spangled banner waved overhead.

"Weasley's in his room."

"Aw, he's real depressed, though, innit, Draco? Poor kid." Galatea smiled gently.

"Don't get sweet on him, Tea. He might fall in love or something." Draco laughed. "That would be bad."

"Naw...not _that_ bad." Galatea whispered, too soft for Draco Malfoy to hear her.

---  
|| _Hermione's room...._

Hermione stared at the dagger in her hands. It glimmered in the pale light of the window-filtered sun. For a ethereal moment, she felt like slicing her own throat. She imagined herself doing it, the gentle _swoosh_ as the knife bit into her skin. The wet, dark crimson droplets sliding down her white neck.

She hurled the dagger accross the room and fell to her knees. She started to sob with the shock that she was capable of such gruesome thoughts.

Of course, she knew why she was thinking of suicide. She didn't _want_ to know, but she did. The problem could be summed up in a word. _Draco._

Her love for him. His destiny. Their nigh impossible life. He scared her, scared her when he was so cruel and powerful and scared her when he was vulnerable and gentle. It terrified her that a person could be so heartless, yet so loving. He could be compassionate to _her_, she knew, but he could never be like that to the masses. Life had made him too distrustful.

And yet she loved him.

A knock. Hermione jumped up and opened it. Her gait, to amend for the wearing of her large, stylish sandals, had lengthened into a casual swagger. She opened it and stared into the eyes of the person outside.

As always, they were unreadable. Not a trace of emotion showed through, even when he smiled. But such marble-like, impressive eyes...like that of a statue formed by the hand of Michaelangelo. Perfect. Too perfect.

His hand was upon her cheek. The chill of his fingers made her flinch, but he didn't withdraw. Slowly, always looking into her eyes, he leaned closer and kissed her. His right arm encircled her waist and the other closed the door.

Hermione pulled him closer as she moved away from the door. Her shins hit the edge of the bed. Draco eased her onto it, supporting her back. He kissed her neck and looked up, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear with a smile. Hermione shivered at his touch. He was unfailingly romantic yet unpredictably intense.

He kissed her more passionately and his hand moved up her leg. "Stop, Draco.....stop, okay?" She whispered, her voice getting steadily louder.

He didn't. Hermione tried to jerk away and placed a hand on his. Draco lifted his arm and moved away from the bed as if he had been burned. He pushed his hair back in a nervous gesture.

"I'm- sorry." 

"That's okay...I mean-..." The romantic mood had been dispelled. An uncomfortable sort of silence descended.

He muttered a few words and a bouquet appeared in his hand. Six pale white aurum lilies with stems of the most intense green tied with a silver bow. "To make up for my adolescent behaviour." He smiled and offered them to her. "They remind me of you." Hermione brushed a petal with the tip of her finger. "Why?"

"They're elegant and strong...very contrasting. They remind me of- truth." Draco opened the door and nodded his head at her. "Goodnight, Mia. I'll see you tomorrow."

He started to walk out of the door. He felt Hermione's hand on his. In a second, her lips were on his. She drew away.

"Goodnight Draco." She smiled and closed the door.

It was a moment before Draco could move, himself. 

---  
|| _Vidya Patil's bedroom..._

"But Padma, how could you not inform me of your coming?"

"You wouldn't have let me come. You're missing the point, this isn't about me or Parvati, this is about the whole Wizarding World, mother." Padma's face had twisted into a Malfoy-like sneer.

"Ah yes, this quest for the Healer. Do you even know _why_ you are seeking such a one? They are a fearsome bunch, Padma, she nearly killed Jay." Vidya said, gravely.

"Oh, so you actually _care_, mother? I'm touched."

"Can you imagine the scandal if you or your friends were hurt? Our privacy woud be blown to bits." Padma bit her lip. _So she doesn't care, after all._ She thought.

"Besides, Padma, she's a very strange girl...she doesn't fit in, even here. Too solitary and solemn."

"Oh, mother, you're so pitiful. You make high-brow speeches about how uniqueness should be encouraged and not _dis_couraged. But finally, when someone really different turns up, you behave like a bigoted ignorant." Vidya pretended not to hear her, but her neck coloured a faint pink-beige.

"Since you're here I'll ask your aunt what to do. Really, Padma, you just couldn't stay at school...." 

"Daddy wouldn't have wanted me to." Padma hissed acidly. "Daddy _loved_ us."

Vidya looked stricken. "You- you both think I don't love you?"

Padma smiled sweetly. "Of course we don't think so, mum." Her expression hardened. "We _know_ so."

Padma stalked out of the room, nearly colliding with her aunt, who was on the way in. "Vidya, you're having trouble."

"Oh, Vina, don't I know?" Vina Deshpande smiled. "How did the Meet of Mages go?"

"I'm going back tomorrow, it's a continuous process, Vid. How's Padma?"

"Oh, fine."

"Did you _ask_ her?"

"No- but, I can see-"

Vina interrupted gently. "I know _you_ can, Vidya, but can _she_?"

"I never meant to hurt them, Vina. It's just, after he died, all that's left is our work. This institute...and they don't fit in here."

"And you resent them for it. You've built the perfect haven for them...but they can't utilise it."

"But I still love them."

"Do you, Vidya? Do you?"

---  
|| _The next day, outside Vidya's office..._

Draco, Harry and Fleur stood outside Vidya's office. Vidya opened the door and motioned for them to come in. Inside stood a tall, pretty girl with light brown almost gold eyes. Her face was marred by an apprehensive pout which dispelled as soon as the trio walked in. She had obviously thought she was in trouble.

She tucked back a strand of dark brown hair and glanced at them. Her face lit up with recognition. "You're Harry Potter...and you're Draco Malfoy...and Fleur Delacour!"

Harry blushed and Draco smiled suavely. Fleur was unpeturbed. "How'd you know it's me and Fleur? I mean, Potter's got the disfigured face and all..." He cast a grin at Harry.

"I'm a MensaMage...I can control minds and read basic thoughts." The girl blushed. "I forgot to introduce myself, didn't I? I'm Sanna Swan."

She held out her hand and had it shaken by Harry, Draco and Fleur in turn. A knock sounded at the door and Vidya opened it. Hermione and Padma were outside. Padma looked in a black mood, but Hermione came in with a smile.

"Hi, I'm Hermione Granger. Her-my-oh-nee." She said, laughing. "Everyone get's it wrong."

She held out her hand, but as Sanna's fingers brushed hers a deafening noise shattered the stillness. Sanna moved back with an alarmed look on her face, clutching her arm, whereas Hermione looked worse. Her fingers shook and she suddenly closed her fingers over her ears. She dropped to her knees and started making soft moaning noises. Draco was beside her in a trice.

"What the hell have you done to her?!" He demanded to Sanna, who just shook her head. "Hermione, Hermione, what's wrong?"

"Thoughts...I can hear people's thoughts...they're hurting- oh God, Draco- make it stop-..." Her face contorted and a tear trickled down her face.

"Mr. Malfoy, move, I know what's wrong." Vidya immediately assumed command. "She's been Triggered."

"What?"

"Miss Granger is obviously a Mensamage, a telepath, if I'm not mistaken. Contact with another of her kind 'triggered' her." Vidya was muttering something. "I've never seen anyone this powerful before..."

"Just frickin' make it _stop_!" Draco yelled, losing his cool. "What the f-" He stopped. Hermione had stopped jerking.

Instead she quickly lifted to her feet. Her movements had a dream-like quality to them. She moved gracefully to the door and opened it. Her eyes were open but glassy, she looked as if she was somnambulating. Draco followed her quietly.

She stopped finally, at the edge of the school grounds. With unnatural swiftness, she drew out her wand and began performing an elaborate ceremony. She cast a beacon spell using three large trees as the perimeter and raised her head.

"_Equina WrathStorme_." She cried, in a voice unlike her own.

For a second, nothing stirred. As if in slow motion, the breeze started to blow. Gently at first but faster and harsher by the second. A far off galloping sounded. Harry looked around, but no horse or hooved creature could be seen.

The galloping was upon them. Hermione raised her hands heavenward and Draco followed her gaze. Silhouetted in the morning sun was a large, gleaming horse. It was brightly white, two large, feathered wings beat slowly in the air. They were like Buckbeak's, but more plentiful. The feathers shone a violet-iridescent white, reflecting the light. The horse's eyes seemed almost human, a shimmering violet-blue.

With one graceful trot the horse had reached the ground. It bowed it's regal head to Hermione, who stretched out a hand and stroked it.

"Arion." She said, her voice normal once more. She horse raised his head. Hermione touched the base of the wings and with a seemingly effortless heave, hoisted herself onto the back.

Her riding style was perfect as she trotted to the crowd.

Draco's mouth twitched. Harry thought he was about to say something nice.

"How come _she's_ allowed to bring her flying horse, but I can't bring my dragon?"

Hermione smiled. "Because Arion controls my Abilities. I don't hear thoughts unless I want to when he's around."

"Mia, what were the words you said when you summoned him?"

Hermione's face clouded. "_WrathStorme_." She whispered. "Remember, Draco, I'm Helaine WrathStorme's heir..."

---  
|| _Back in the office..._

Vidya eased back into her chair. "Back to the issue at hand...rather an anticlimax, I'm afraid."

Harry smiled. "Yeah, well, it's important, though. Right, Sanna, you're good at solving these puzzle things?"

"You bet." Sanna grinned. Harry gave her the clues and her face clouded. "What are we looking for?"

"A place- somewhere she lives." Draco said, looking away from the window. Hermione was fine, getting to know Arion.

"Then it has to be famous...okay..." Sanna squinted at the paper. "This is going to take me a while." She looked up.

"Okay, we'll be in our rooms." Harry said, walking out. "Thanks, Sanna."

Draco glanced at Harry's departing back and turned to her. "Where do you stay?"

"Um, in the student's dorm rooms. Kinda like Hogwarts, but bigger." Sanna replied. "So who're you lookin' for?"

"A Healer." Draco said, shortly. Sanna's eyes widened.

"Chaos? Why?"

"_Chaos?_" Draco said, with a questioning look.

"Oh, um, that's her name. She came here and freaked everybody out. Looked kinda cool." Draco and she were inside the student dorms by then.

"What did she do?"

"Sanna! There you-...ah." A petite, wispy witch squealed as Sanna came in. "Um, hi."

Sanna laughed. "Draco, this is my best friend Eleanor- Nora, this is Draco Malfoy."

"Hey Nora, how're your parents?" Draco smiled. Sanna did a double take.

"You know each other?"

"Yeah, we used to go out." Nora chirped. She shook out her blonde hair. "Draco, you look different."

"I've changed. So how's life in the Institute?" He asked Sanna.

"Pretty cool." She was too busy deciphering the riddle to give a longer answer.

"It's so-...Muggle." Draco supressed a shiver.

"Well, ESP- extra sensory perception- is often prevalent in Muggles. It's a remnant of when the world was filled with Wizards and Magic- strains often appear. ESP is just a manifestation of suppressed genetic Magical Skills. So we're a sort of halfway house." Sanna looked up.

"Cool."

Sanna was muttering under her breath. She suddenly gave a cry of triumph. "Oh my God, I got it!" She jumped up. "Wynnet."

"Eh?"

"I took the last letters of every person and rearranged them- it forms Wynnet. Wynnet was the name of the old Seer...she lived in Amethyst Palace, it's abandoned now..." Her voice lifted. "And it's rumoured that it was a _Healers_ Palace thousands of years ago. I don't know why we didn't think of it sooner."

"Wow, that was fast...you're _good_." Draco flashed a smile. "Amethyst Palace, here we come." His smile faded once more.

"Draco, you're troubled somewhat...I can tell." Sanna suddenly pronounced. "Anything I can do?"

"Not unless you can rewrite Destiny."

"My mother used to say that you make your own Destiny." Sanna stopped. "Maybe I _can_ help, Draco. I'll give you a piece of advice. Follow your _own_ advice and at least the mistakes you make will be your own. There's nothing worse than making another persons errors."

"No." Draco agreed. "There isn't."

---  
|| _The grounds of the Institute..._

Hermione stroked Arion one last time. She didn't understand how she was so comfortable with the horse- especially since it was a flying horse. Anything that moved fast gave Hermione motion sickness. She'd never been the 'need for speed' kind of person.

Hermione felt a dull, throbbing sort of ache in the back of her head. It felt like liquid nitrogen was seeping through her body. An odd compulsion was overtaking her and she quickly opened her bag. She took out the black box Dumbledore gave her and opened it. The surface of the scrying pool was glittering.

Hermione started to concentrate on the surface. The harder she tried, the more murky the surface would become. She put the box down with a clang and relaxed, frustrated. The surface cleared and an image formed.

"Sylvoren!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Hello Hermie. Thank Gryffindor you stopped closing your mind or-"

"What?"

"By concentrating you project your conscious over your sub-conscious. You, in effect, close a door over your Inner Eye which I don't have the key to. I can slip into your mind if you let me, but not if you're _trying_ to let me." Sylvoren pronounced, sounding like Sybill.

"So what's up with this....?"

"Hermie, I want you to stay calm. I'm going to- I must, show you some images...disturbing images. I'm sorry." Hermione started to say something but Sylvoren was dissipating.

The surface of the pool rippled and a very different scene appeared. It was a snowy, wind haunted plain...multitudes were lying abandoned on the frozen tundra. Dark blood stained the pristine snow. The scene shifted.

Draco Malfoy was riding towards a huge archway carved of ice. He's different, somehow. His skin is paler and more translucent and his features harder. A perennial crease adorns his forehead and his lips are drawn into a cruel, half-mocking expression. His eyes are the same.

He swung a foot over his dragon and dismounted with grace. He glanced at her for a second and her wings started to beat. A second later, she was silhouetted in the pale sun. With one last glance and a terrible, mournful cry, she disappeared into the sky.

Draco's visage turned from Alyewn to another approaching figure. It's steps can be heard, but the face cannot be seen. As it comes closer, the pool reflected only Draco. A slender hand pulled the sword from Draco's scabbard. A thick metal bracelet was wrapped around it's wrist, very unisex in it's looks. A scarlet cuff could be seen. The fingers grasped the sword firmly, but with a quiver. A moment of indecision passed.

"I knew you would come." Draco said, his voice is different too. Weighted down by maturity and by grief. By experience.

The figure didn't reply. Instead it swung the sword back and plunged it into Draco's chest. Draco drew his breath in sharply, his face ashen. The fingers grasping the sword released it, the fingers were shaking. Draco wrapped his own round the crystal haft of his sword and with his other hand, grasped the figure's arm..

One drop of ruby blood falls onto the snow like a teardrop. It glitters, gem-like, for an instant, before spreading it's poison into the soft frost. Draco looked at the figure who had slain him. There was no anger in his eyes. No emotion, as ever.

He closed them for an instant. When he opened his eyes again a solitary, crystalline droplet cascaded down his cheek.

It fell from the tip of his chin onto the ground. Imperceptibly, it mingled with the blood already spilled. Blood like tears.

"Goodbye." The figure whispered. It was impossible to tell to whom it belonged. The word had been whispered with such hoarse melancholy.

The scrying pool dissipated. Hermione Granger, WrathStorme's heir, screamed.

---  
---


	12. Immortality

**Harry Potter & the Trident's Curse**

---

_"How can the past and future be if the past no longer is and the future is not yet? And as for the present, it cannot be both the past and the future, but it is, depending on one's vantage point so we have not Time but Eternity. Your mortal concept of time is so confused. Must you be so Linear?"_

|HPTC-Empress Azaelyste|

---

**Part 12-** Immortality

_The gates of Amethyst Palace, a long time later..._

The gates of the Palace seemed to form straight out of the earth. They were made of opalescent violet crystal which clawed out from the ground. They rose jaggedly towards the sky, but then twisted elegantly into the form of hands. The arch was formed by the perfectly proportioned fingers, brushing tips at the top.

Large, cylindrical barred gates obstructed their view of the Palace with their trellis-like pattern. Hermione eased off her horse, Arion.

"_Alohomora._" She said, her voice wavering. Draco placed a hand on her arm and she glanced back, her eyes gleaming wildly.

She hadn't said a word to him about her vision. Draco couldn't understand the grief-stricken glances he was receiving from her. Hermione tore her eyes away from Draco and glanced at the others.

Theirs was a small group, now that Padma was not with them. Harry and Draco had decided it would be best for her to wait for them at Malfoy Manor. Fleur smiled.

"Shall we enter?" She asked, as the gates swung in the wind.

The group moved forward as one. Hermione whispered something to Arion, who flew off. The palace grounds were barren and brown, shabby in contrast to the extravagant gates. Harry could see that they must have been beautiful once, but their glory had passed.

"Sic transit gloria mundi." Hermione whispered, reading his mind. "All glory is fleeting."

"I wish you wouldn't do that." Harry started. "It's weird, knowing you can read my thoughts."

Hermione looked irritated. "I'm _not_ reading your thoughts. I can control that. It's your emotion, I can't block out strong emotion."

"Glory is fleeting is _not_ an emotion." Harry countered.

"Oh, what do you know?" Hermione snapped. "Your perception of emotion is so very minimal. Besides, everyone 'reads minds', you do it by body language, tone- but very crudely. I, simply, can do it better."

"Okay, okay, that's it! Time out! You-" Draco pointed at Harry and then beside Fleur. "Over there- Mia, with me. It'll do no good if we bite each others' heads off."

"Draco the peacemaker, who would have thought it?" Hermione laughed.

"You two are just too quarrelsome! I _have_ to be the peacemaker or I go crazy- ah." Draco stopped dead. "Hello." He said, hesitantly. "Um-"

"Welcome to the Healers Palace. Come in, I am Chaos." Chaos stood in front of a large glittering palace.

It loomed out of a fairytale- not strong and sturdy like Hogwarts Castle, but wispy and ethereal. It was carved in resonating crystal which vibrated even as Chaos spoke. The sun lit the Palace in a warm orange glow. A masking spell left the crystal opaline and clear, but not transparent.

A carved archway loomed in place of a door, and Chaos led them through.

This time, her clothes did not seem so out of place. Her chainmail blended with that of the others. Her thick boots had more wear on them and her gloves seemed to glow somewhat. She did not wear the navy blue tunic any more, the ebony bodysuit sufficing. The transparent mask was gone from her face and she obviously had more control over her power.

She led them to the large dining hall. Small bells and resonators were suspended from the ceiling. A peaceful kind of calm settled on their minds and bodies. Chaos sat at the head of the table and the others followed suit.

"As I said before, I am Chaos, the Healer and the one you seek. Please introduce yourselves."

"Don't you know who we are? You must, I mean, you set the puzzle." Draco burst out.

"Ah, no, the puzzle I found along with a prophecy- kind of an instruction manual. I have no idea who you are and why you want me." Chaos seemed unperturbed by her lack of understanding.

"Right. I'm Harry Potter-" Harry paused ever so slightly. "Fleur Delacour, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy." Chaos smiled slowly.

"My stepsister, Celeste, is an alchemist. She has discovered the ingredients required for the Draught of Eternal Youth."

"And?"

"And we require the blood of a Healer for it." Draco finished.

"But this Draught, it is a dangerous thing. It alters the Equilibrium. What is your purpose in exposing it's secret to the world?" Chaos asked.

"Good question, actually." Draco interjected. "Potter?" "To destroy it." Harry said. Draco cast him a disbelieving glance. "The only way we can erase the knowledge of the Draught from Humankind's collective memory is to create it and then destroy it."

"How do I know this is really your purpose?" Harry reached into this pocket.

"Albus Dumbledore left this letter addressed to 'the Healer' in my backpack." Chaos tore open the letter with supple fingers.

_ Ms. Casterleigh,_

Perhaps you remember me, in fact, I am quite sure you do. I do know _you_ and this letter is proof of my troupe's good intentions. I know you trust me, and you may be sure your trust will not be betrayed.

It would be best if you came back with Harry, Draco, Hermione, Padma and Ron. I'm sure you've heard of Harry Potter. They will not be suspicious or alienate you, you may be sure. You might even form friendships, my dear.

Are you wondering how I know you are a Healer, especially since you've shunned your name? Ah, well, answers will be brought forth once you return to England and come to Hogwarts. You will be desperately needed in the battlefields.

I am sorry to contact you for such a sombre purpose, but your skill will be valued. Do not fear to come back, Sir Casterleigh, I regret to inform you, is no more.

Hope to see you back with us,

Sincerely, Albus Dumbledore

"I see." She said. "I shall come back with you. It has been a while since I saw Albus, how is he?"

"Fine, fine...he hasn't lost any of his old vigour." Hermione said. Chaos glanced at her and shuddered slightly.

"Excellent. Shall we leave? I can sense that time is of the essence." Draco looked surprised.

"Don't you need to pack or anything?" He asked. _That was too easy._ He thought inwardly.

She picked up a large travel backpack, not unlike the ones they were carrying, from the floor. "Done." She said, a smile flitting upon her features for a second.

Draco could believe she didn't need to pack. Her short, powerful figure was perfectly proportioned. She wasn't slender, but had no extra weight. Her face was brown tanned, not strictly pretty but striking. Her eyes were charcoal, ebony black. Her nose was quite large and the top was slightly crooked. Her mouth was full, and had shiny midnight blue lipstick spread over it. Her cheekbones were high, accented by the angular planes of her face.

She looked tough, determined- not very feminine, but she still moved with unflappable grace. "So, where are we going first?"

"First I think we should all rest, it's been a long day and we still have three more days to go. The others will meet us at Hogwarts gates." Harry said.

"Fine, I'll show you to your rooms."

---  
|| _Malfoy Manor, Ron's room..._

Ron sat down heavily on the bed. Lupin was in one of the bedrooms and Ron could hear him scratching on the door and whining softly. Sirius was at his perennial post near the foot of Narcissa's bed. Padma was down in the library, researching some curse or prophecy that didn't make much sense to him.

Ron was missing Galatea less and less. In the beginning, he had yearned to talk to her. She had come to his room in the nights and they had spoken at length. Ron felt as if he knew Galatea. But all that had changed since Padma came back.

The adults in the house didn't take much notice of them, and Ron got the distinct impression that Sirius liked Draco more than him. Padma, however, was a different matter. For the first time, nothing was around to distract him from her. No Hermione, no Fleur Delacour and no Galatea.

They had been having long talks, and Ron found himself revealing his innermost secrets to her. How he always felt shadowed by Harry's bravery, Hermione's brilliance and his other siblings success. Padma had been understanding and gentle. She had told him about her parents, how her mother never loved her after her father died. How she hated herself for merely being normal. How she hated that Parvati was coping so well.

But the clincher was when Padma had told him that she loved chess, too. Their style of playing was worlds apart. Ron preferred the less bold, subtler moves, whereas Padma executed audacious strategies. They each admired the others' plays. Apart from Hermione, Padma was the only girl to genuinely like him as a friend.

Ron found himself becoming comfortable with her and enjoying her company. He had never found anyone with whom he could discuss chess moves, Gary Kasparov _and_ his emotions. He found himself hanging on her words, feeling tingly when she smiled at him.

A knock. Ron opened the door.

"Hey Ron."

"Padma, c'mon in, what's up?" Ron asked, somewhat jarred.

"Huh? Oh, nothing- um- I need to talk to you..." She trailed off.

"Sit down." He gestured.

"It's about- well,- us." She took a deep breath. "Before, you used to take me out, but we never talked. Not about anything important, anyways. And you never really _looked_ at me. You kind of glanced through me, I never really mattered."

Ron grimaced. "I'm so sorry, Paddy, look, you matter to me now- a whole lot."

Padma, smiled, pleasantly surprised at his openness. "That's what I'm here about. You know Ron, I've always liked you. I know I matter, but in what way? I just want to know, Ron, do you want to be just friends...or- more?"

Ron glanced around nervously. "I- mean, sure...of course...I think-uh-"

"Ron, stop babbling and get to the damn point."

"More." He mumbled and then straightened up. "Padma, I think- I think I could- love you."

~*~*~*

_Snape's dungeons, three days to Graduation..._

A large copper cauldron was bubbling near the fire, bright orange fluid was being distilled and four jars of dubious-looking powders were open on a desk. A gawky, flame-red haired girl of around fourteen was hunched over the cauldron, muttering words from a thick, musty old book.

"Dragonsbane- dragonsbane..." She stopped and turned around. "Severus!" She yelled.

Professor Snape hurtled through the door, a mixture of chagrin and worry on his face. 

"What? And _don't_ call me that in school hours!"

"Fine, _Professor_ Snape. I just thought you'd like to know we're out of DragonsBane." Snape made a face.

"Can't be- have you checked my stores, Gin?"

"Ya-huh, yesterday. And your drawers and cupboards-" She smiled as Snape blanched. "Your mum was really pretty."

Severus cleared his throat. "My personal belongings, Miss Weasley, are none of your business."

"Don't get on your high horse with me, Sev. You're so odd, sometimes you're so nice- and other times you're so...sour." Ginny laughed, completely at ease with the teacher.

"You tell him, Gin!" Celeste snickered, coming in at that moment. The two girls had ganged up on Snape from the start.

There was an easy camaraderie between the three of them. Every free waking hour was spent in each others' company and they all knew the consequences of a mistake. They were brewing such a complex and dangerous draught, that, even wrongly administered, it could kill.

Severus made an explosive kind of noise. "Girls!" He muttered.

"Ah, I got you some DragonsBane, noticed it was out. Thank Paracelsus-" Phillipus Paracelsus first expounded the theory of the Philosophers Stone in the sixteenth century. "-that at least _one_ of us is responsible!"

"You noticed it first? _That_, Celie, is because you haven't been pulling your weight around here and have left me and Ginny to slave." Severus joked semi-awkwardly while Celeste and Ginny laughed.

"Um, Severus?" Snape stiffened and his features became hard.

"Minerva, do come in." He folded his arms. "Anything the matter?"

"Ah, no, I heard laughter and I thought some kids had gotten in. Obviously not- Miss Weasley! What are you doing here?"

"I'm helping out, Professor McGonagall." Ginny gulped. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before."

"That's quite all right. Professor Snape should have done that."

"Sorry, Minerva. Tea?" He asked, weakly.

"Eh?"

"Would you like a cup of tea?" Minerva looked surprised.

"In front of the students?" 

"Oh, don't worry, Gin and Celie won't tell that their teachers actually get along, will they?" Ginny shook her head on cue.

Minerva hesitated then smiled. "Wouldn't mind a cuppa, actually."

---  
|| _Dumbledore's office, the day before Graduation..._

Dumbledore placed the Pensieve carefully on his desk and leaned back.

He had to be quick if everything was to follow it's normal path. With one swish he was out of his chair. He threw open his wardrobe and quickly pulled and buttoned on some formal robes. Quickly, he polished his wand and shook out a dusty, expensive-looking wizard's hat.

He quickly descended the steps into his lower lobby and went out, making sure to shut the gargoyle on his way. He looked about for someone.

A small first year was running past, a load of books gathered in his arms. He was puffing madly and was obviously late for class.

"Ah, Corey Thomas, isn't it?" The boy stopped. "Dean's brother?"

"Yes, sir." He squeaked, a little awed.

"Excellent, now I'm going to ask you to help me out, Corey. Please tell Professor McGonagall I shall be back within the day's end or sooner. In that time, she is in charge of Hogwarts, tell her to start preparations for Graduation. Thanks ever so much, Corey."

Dumbledore gave Corey a warm smile and without changing expression, Disapparated.

---  
|| _Knockturn Alley, just outside Borgin and Burkes..._

Fleur stretched as they walked out onto the street. Portkeys always made her stiff. She glanced back at Chaos and Hermione. Both seemed to get along. Fleur wrinkled her nose. Neither were to her taste. Hermione was far too dorky, in her opinion, and Chaos had no _chic_, no sense of style.

She smiled at Harry. They would go back to Hogwarts right after stopping off at Malfoy Manor. She wondered when they'd find the time to play their quidditch match.

The War was looming ahead of them. Hogwarts was probably swarming with people. It was the base for Dumbledore's side. Most magic-users would have to be trained to use swords, shields and spears. Both sides had agreed to not use guns. They would cause to much bloodshed. They were too Muggle, anyway. 

Fleur wondered if they would come out victorious this time. The world would change if they didn't. Change for the worse. Fleur cleared her mind of these thoughts.

"Come on, we'll cut through Imperial Alley, it's the quickest way." Draco led the group into a large alleyway.

It looked like it had been used to royalty and revels. The street was wide, and Hermione supposed it had been for parades. Obviously in the older times, foreign magic Royalty would have come to visit.

All of a sudden, a kind of mist drifted into Imperial Alley. It sparkled and twisted as if it were alive and breathed of magic.

"Enchanted fog!" Hermione said, as Harry shuddered. He was remembering the Triwizard Tournament and how the fog had confused him thoroughly. 

Harry could have sworn that he had heard horses footfalls in the distance, but his attention was diverted. At that moment two rather skinny-looking figures that resembled men came out of the fog. They had small, pale faces and their hair was a sparkling white-blue. Their clothes looked as if they were spun out of pure dew and moonbeams, the same colour as the mist. They did not wear robes as such, but curious articles of wear. It resembled a toga, apart from the fact that the figures' clothes were tightly fitted around their torsos, fell in icicle like fronds at the bottom and the top drapes were fastened to the back by two large, glittering grey stones.

Precisely at the same instant each raised a glittering horn, which looked as if it was carved out of ice, and blew heartily. A deep base tone trembled the very foundations of the street, yet it was not a loud noise. After the last note had died out two other figures, dressed in the same clothes but in orange-red, came and stood behind them. Their stance resembled a military formation.

They unrolled two large scrolls. "Herald, Mortal Magicians! Azaelyste, Queen of the Fae, High Empress over the Kingdom of Immortality from the land of Stars Tears, Sorrow, to the realm of Stars Breath, Courage, has graced your land with her presence. The Queen of Eternity bids you deliver your leaders to her august audience."

They spoke in perfect unison, their voices were not distinctly masculine or feminine, but had a nasal tone in them. They sounded like solidified sighs and wind-whispers. Draco glanced at Hermione. Her eyes were glittering and she seemed excited and nervous.

"Gryffindor's Grave!" She exclaimed softly, using a choice epithet. "She really exists!"

"You know this Queen, then." Harry observed.

"Everyone _should_ know _of_ her! Haven't you ever heard myths of the Elfin Queen?" She went on, uninterested in their knowlege. "She rules over the land where the 'immortals' live, you know, the Faeries and the Dryads and the Nymphs and Spirits and Elves!" She finished almost squeaking.

"What's Stars Tears and Stars Breath?"

"Stars Tears are snowflakes, ice- and that is the land from which mortal sorrow is descended. Stars Breath is fire and flame, and we've inherited courage from them."

"Quite right, m'dear." The group whirled around to find Cornelius Fudge standing in the Alley behind them. He eyed Harry dubiously, as if he expected him to have a fit or something equally odd. "But aren't you all supposed to be in school, eh, Dumbledore?"

To Hermione's great relief, Dumbledore stepped out behind Fudge. He looked extremely curious about their trip but held his tongue. "It's the day before they Graduate, Cornelius, and I thought they'd like to see Queen Azaelyste."

"Ah, excellent, shall we go in, Dumbledore?" He asked, slightly nervous.

"If you don't mind, Cornelius, the others will come with us." Fudge merely nodded. "Come along then."

As they approached the heralds and mist, four large figures- elves, rather- came out from the mist. Two remained at the head of the procession, leading them, and two followed them a respectable distance behind. The mist smarted their bare faces and tingled their fingers.

Soon, they felt themselves walking upwards, as if the ground itself was sloping. A queer sort of feeling overtook them, a shifting which felt familiar to Harry and Hermione. The two elves at the front stopped. With practiced ease they swung open two large doors, which seemed to be the entrance to the Queen's chambers.

_How does all this fit in here, she can't travel about like this for sure!_ Hermione thought.

They walked in to a gleaming chamber of ice and snowflakes, flame and blaze. One wall was the cool grey of frost, the other the angry orange-crimson of fire. Both walls seemed alive, as if the flames were really there. But when Harry passed close to them, he felt no adverse warmth. They, like everything else, smelled of Fae Magic.

Anything enchanted by it held a gay, bubbling sort of look and smelled of moors, heather and fresh air. The floor seemed to be made of clouds and shimmered the colours of the rainbow. The royal crest hung behind the throne. It was vividly coloured, and the symbol was rimmed by two ellipses. It was a large intricate rune, shaped like an 'U' with an inverted 'L' joined to it's left side. The right line of the 'U' extended and was crossed by a horizontal line which was then crossed by two small vertical lines. The 'U' was struck by a slanting line.

The great court was empty save for the Queen on her throne. The throne was a tribute to the fury and beauty of fire and ice. The right side was fire and orange and furious red flames sparked and danced with terrible beauty. On the left the frost dazzled and sparkled with glittering ferocity. In the middle both met and raged, equals, unable to vanquish one another. The flames licked the frost but the ice bit into the fire.

The mighty throne was overshadowed entirely by the Queen herself. She had a long, pointed face, elfin and delicate. Her eyes were slanted upwards but were large and expressive. Her petite mouth was naturally a deep, dark red that seemed like a blood-stain against her translucent, almost paper-thin skin. Her eyelids were lined with glittering snowflakes and her cheeks flushed with fire's warmth.

Her hair fanned out behind her, the strands were long, almost to the floor and were stiff, straight and sparkling blue-white. Like highlighted streaks, tresses of gently curled, moving red flame slivered through. She was obviously tall, almost seven foot, but lithe and sylph-like. Her body was angular and bony, her fingers slender and long. Her dress was of black with firestones and frostgems embroidered into it with elfin ingenuity.

She did not need a crown for her royalty to be known. The very way she carried herself and the wisdom implied in her stature were enough. Draco gasped inwardly. He had never seen a more beautiful woman before...nor a more dangerous one.

Draco could see that even though her body exuded humility, goodness and kindness she could also be harsh. Her eyes were of a deep, dreamless green. An evil, creeping sort of green. Not the colour of Harry's eyes nor the colour of Daemersgrale's choice matched it. Her eyes gleamed cunning, deadly- like those of a coiled snake. Yet her beauty was unmatched. Fleur felt an odd feeling, and with a jolt, realised it was jealousy.

"Albus Dumbledore..." She said dreamily but interestedly. Her voice was like the tinkling of glass, but more rounded, mellifluous. "We are pleased to make one's acquaintance."

"Your Highness Queen Azaelyste." Dumbledore said, bowing deeply.

"Many a mortal turn hath past, has is not?" There was such purity in her tone none of the part would dream of lying to her.

"You are correct, Majesty."

"And a War and Ascension dawn at the same period?"

"Once again, correct, your Majesty." Azaelyste smiled and suddenly stopped.

"You, mortal mage, you bear the mark of Gryffindor." She said, looking at Harry. "And you, mortal maid, of WrathStorme...and you, little Sorceror-" Draco paled at her allusion to him as evil. "-of Mortragen...and beautiful maid, you are of Veela blood, and you dark one, are of the Healers Clan."

"Yes, your Highness..." They murmured.

"A fair curious assemblage, I daresay. This bodes ill for the Trident, but perhaps portents good for the world." She seemed to be talking to herself. "Excuse me, your Royal Highness-"

"Queen Azaelyste, maid of WrathStorme." She interposed, a wishful sort of look coming into her face.

"Queen Azaelyste, did you know Gryffindor, WrathStorme and Mortragen?" Hermione ventured, bravely.

"We did know them, ah, how we desired to bestow immortality upon them- but they refused. We loved them dearly, especially Gravero Gryffindor...." She said. "But that is what you mortals call past, is it not?"

"What _we_ call past, Queen Azaelyste?" Draco asked sharply, the queen eyed him curiously.

"How can the past and future be if the past no longer is and the future is not yet? And as for the present, it cannot be both the past and the future, but it is, depending on one's vantage point so we have not Time but Eternity. Your mortal concept of time is so confused. Must you be so Linear?" She sighed.

"Your Highness, what did you call us here for?" Fudge interposed, blustering nervously. The Queen regarded him with distaste.

"For Gifts. The Fae Folk will not draw swords with mortals, but we are not averse to aid. Cornelius Fudge, approach us!" Fudge tottered towards the queen timidly.

She removed her right, fur-trimmed sequinned glove and made a rune in the air. The atmosphere congealed for a second and then the rune burst into tiny fragments of scintilla. As they fell on the Queens ungloved hand they formed a writhing shape.

The Queen handed Cornelius Fudge a large, polished oak wand. He accepted it quietly.

"Why thankyou, your Highness-Majesty...m'dear, ever so- whatever is this wand for- humbly accepted your Grace- Queen ma'am." He muttered, red in the face.

"One will find it useful someday, snivelling weasel." She said, scorn in her voice. Cornelius scurried back.

"Albus Dumbledore, approach!" She did the exact same thing, except this time, two gifts appeared. One was a small black box as Hermione recognised as the Scrying Pool Dumbledore had given her. The other was a delicate gold watchstrap. It was old and burnished, but Dumbledore seemed at a loss for words.

"You have often hoped for a memory of your father, one of the great and wise of the Fae, and here I present it to you. This other item is for tomorrow, where you will present it to a loyal student before they set out on a Great Voyage."

Dumbledore bowed deeply. "Thankyou, your Highness, this gift means much to me." He said, true gratitude shining in his voice.

"Veela Maid, Approach. What is your name?"

"Fleur Delacour, Highness."

"A good name for you, Flower of Mortals." The Queen did not conjure a gift for Fleur but leaned forward and whispered softly. "Heed my words, you will be faced with a choice soon, but be not mournful, all is not lost. Those whom you betrayed will forgive. Now go, child, with our Blessing. We give thee the mark of the Fae."

The Queen nimbly drew the same symbol that was on the great Flag on Fleur's forehead. It gleamed for a minute and disappeared into her skin. "Thankyou, Queen Azaelyste."

"Healer, approach." The Queen did not ask her name. Instead she drew her closer and bid her shut her eyes. The Queen touched them softly and then touched her chest. "Rise, Healer. Whatever thine eyes may behold, thine heart will not become too heavy to bear."

"Thankyou, your majesty." Chaos stepped back.

"Maid of Wrathstorme, speak your name." Hermione stepped forward.

"Hermione Granger, Queen Azaelyste." The Queen lifted an arm and muttered under her breath. In a moment, a thick volume was speeding towards her. She caught it deftly and handed it to Hermione. 

"The Tome of the Trident. Keep it well, tis older than Mortal Time itself. It's knowledge will be precious to you." Hermione bowed and thanked her.

"Heir of Daemersgrale, approach, budding Sorceror." Draco did not meet her eyes. "You name?"

"Draco Argentus Valwracen Malfoy, Queen Azaelyste." The Queen leaned forward once more.

"Knowledge for you, Sorceror Valwracen. Pure evil no more exists, lest you call it forth. Be cautious, yet one may always undo one's error. A great choice will be before you soon, not the choice already made, but one anew. Make it with clear soul and never regret." She blessed him and turned.

Her skin seemed even paler and her eyes gleamed a curious light. "Gryffindor's heir, approach. Your name?"

"Harry Potter, Queen Azaelyste."

"You, Harry-" Her voice seemed tense and melancholy. "-art so much like Gravero." She touched him on the cheek. "Here is my gift, though bitter may the war be, always keep your hope. Yet do not mistake folly for bravery, young Wizard, though nary a difference may there seem."

"Thankyou, your Highness." Harry started to move back when a gesture from the Queen stopped him.

Time froze inside the room. The spell had not affected the Queen and Harry.

"Your majesty, what-"

"Azaelyste will suffice, Harry." Her tone had changed from commanding to yearning. She lifted herself off the great throne.

She stood around a foot taller than him, graceful and deadly. With one stride she was beside him. She placed her hands on his cheeks and tilted her head. Before Harry knew what she was doing, her lips were on his and she had kissed him. It didn't feel like an ordinary kiss, it was suffused with life and love and hate and death and yearning and melancholy.

His heart beat faster and faster. A warmth had spread into his stomach. It felt so wonderful he thought he would die. She released him and sat back down on her throne. Harry felt weak and giddy.

"Rest, Harry, the pain will subside. I have given you immortality, but not eternal youth. Your Draught of Eternal Youth must be taken every year by normal mortals for it's potency to be felt, but mortals will still die in the normal course. For you, one drop is enough for immortal youth. Truly immortal youth." She smiled.

"Why? Why did you do this to me?" He choked.

"Live your life among the mortals, but after it is done. After loves and friends have all perished return to my Throne. Rule forever by our side. We let Gravero slip through our fingers, but his heir will not refuse our love." Harry looked aghast.

"But- I don't...I don't love you..." He said, uncertainly. The Queen smiled. "What if I choose not to drink the Draught?"

"Do you not love me, Harry Potter? Search within yourself and you will know you have always loved me. It runs in your veins, your ancestors even Before Gravero Gryffindor loved me and your heirs shall love me also. You love me with Fae Love, your mortal mockery of it comes not close. That is why after all your kin and kith are perish'd, you will drink the Draught and rule our Kingdom." She touched his cheek again and Harry knew her words were true. "Goodbye, Harry Potter, first of man to become Immortal. We shall meet again."

She waved her fingers and Time seeped back into the room.

"Begone- but before you go...'ware the Ruined City's arch, for that is where the Beginning of the End shall commence. May the wise Fae guide you."

---

---


	13. Carpe Diem

**Harry Potter & the Trident's Curse**

---

He did love her. It was the kind of love that made him sick to his stomach yet giddy with pleasure...It commanded him and ruled his senses. It was cruel with it's sweetness and merciless with it's beauty.   
...Immortal, yet not ageless. Eternal life without eternal Youth, surely one of the most bitter poisons. 

|HPTC-Midnight Star|

---

**Part 13-** Carpe Diem

_Imperial Alley, just after their meeting with the Fae Queen..._

Albus Dumbledore led Cornelius Fudge out of the fog. He glanced briefly at Harry and the others. A thoughtful look came upon his face but he did not ask him a single question. His half-moon spectacles glinted in the moonlight.

Chaos looked up, it was already dark. Yet they had spent but twenty or twenty five minutes in the enchanted fog. _Time probably works differently there._ She reasoned.

Harry looked up to ask Dumbledore a question but his glance met a deserted alleyway. Dumbledore and Fudge had already Disapparated. They still had half the night and most of the next morning till they could safely return. Draco had hoped to travel on brooms by day and rest nearby Hogwarts by night.

The dark made the plan impossible. Harry was glad of the Nights' gloomy embrace, for it masked his expression. He had looked within himself and he had found what the Fae Queen had said. He did love her. It was the kind of love that made him sick to his stomach yet giddy with pleasure.

It commanded him and ruled his senses. It was cruel with it's sweetness and merciless with it's beauty. Harry told himself that he would refuse the Queen's offer. He would be honourable, he would live and die a mortal- yet even that was impossible- he was already immortal.

In his heart of hearts he knew that he would drink the Draught. The price of not sipping the elixir would be to live decrepit and shrivelled for eternity. Immortal, yet not ageless. Eternal life without eternal Youth, surely one of the most bitter poisons.

He caught Fleur smiling at him out of the corner of his eye. He smiled back blandly, the mortal world seemed of so little consequence. The loves and losses and petty tribulations truly meant nothing. Life itself was a meaningless exercise in self-fulfillment, gluttony and greed.

He felt like screaming in feral rage, his hands shook and mind felt as if it was on fire. He felt hopeless, torn...a traveller between forbidden worlds.

Yet he smiled at Fleur Delacour.

---  
|| _The Plane of the Trident, while the Queen talks to Harry_

Gravero Gryffindor regarded the scene with an expressionless face. He could almost see Azaelyste glance upward at him. The planes were layered like a sandwich, one on top of the other, rimmed by primeval chaos. It had been a difficult concept to grasp in the beginning. Everything Gravero had been taught fought against it.

He could accept Magic, for it could easily be explained by the laws of Physics and Neurology. It was a known fact that humans use only upto ten percent of their brains. Magically receptive people simply used more. Wizards were the next step in the chain of Human Evolution.

Yet Darwins greatest flaw was regarding Evolution as linear. Perhaps it was, upto man, but humanity changed it all. A rational, sentient being with the ability to alter it's surroundings.

By all rules of Natural Selection, Wizardkind should have slowly infiltrated, weakened and finally taken over from normal man. Yet the opposite had happened. Magically receptive beings were shunned, hunted and killed.

The only way Wizardkind could preserve themselves was to dilute their blood with common man. So as the aeons tumbled away, wizards slowly came to resemble Muggles. Now wizards only used eight percent more of their brains, whereas ten millennia ago it was twenty percent. So as the world progressed, magic became weaker. Wizards now required their wands to do anything but the simplest magic. The Fae wrapped themselves in Enchanted Mist to avoid pollution of their species and retreated to a higher plane.

Gravero shook himself out of his ramblings. A visit was in order.

---  
|| _The Plane of the Fae, the group has just departed..._

High Empress Azaelyste let her head droop. Her eyes were bright and sparkling, like polished gems, but hard like them also. Her face relaxed from the regal stiffness which she usually held it in.

She felt as if she was going to be sick. That boy had looked so much like Gravero...he had brought back beautiful memories. Achingly beautiful, especially now. Immortal life as the ruler of her kingdom was not enchanting, as most people thought, but rather stupefyingly boring.

The only period when she had enjoyed herself, apart from her youth, had been when Gravero and his friends were alive. They were unlike ordinary mortals, and often visited her in the lonely Kingdom of the Fae.

So many myths and legends were woven around the land, that Azaelyste sometimes felt the Kingdom ephemeral. It sometimes felt as if it really wasn't real, and that she was merely a figment of someone's colourful imagination.

But there were also times she felt starkly real. Three of her visitors had reminded her of the Trident; Hermione, Draco and Harry. She wondered if their lives would turn out like the old Trident.

Certainly it seemed as if it was going that way. Azaelyste had sensed that Hermione was with the pale Sorceror. She smiled and remembered how Helaine Wrathstorme had loved Daemersgrale Mortragen. They had loved each other with deep, passionate- such intense love. Then something happened.

Azaelyste didn't even know what- none of the three had ever breathed a word of it. But after that time, Helaine and Daemersgrale stopped smiling. Helaine drifted back to Gryffindor, they were friends of old. And even though Gravero was promised to her, Azaelyste, he had loved Helaine with deep loyalty. Azaelyste didn't understand how friendship could be so powerful.

Helaine had come to need Gravero, and in the end they had married. Gravero had forsaken the Empress for his friend. Azaelyste had been so enraged that she had forbidden him access to the Fae Kingdom. She had never seen him since then.

In her mind, she had offered him Immortal Love and he had refused. Harry Potter would be hers. She had waited a thousand eternities- she would not wait another.

"Zael."

She looked up, only one person had ever called Zael... "Gravero."

"How are you?"

"I am sure you know, for you picked exactly this time to call upon me after- oh, I scarce remember- four millennia?" Her voice was the acerbic and bitter tone of the jilted lover.

"Please, Zael, forgive me. My loyalties were to Helaine. She needed me, Zael, she needed me." Gravero said, intensely.

She looked straight into his eyes. "And I didn't?"

Gravero faltered, at a loss. "But Zael- you're...strong- you're a queen. You're a survivor...Helaine's not."

"Yes, I am an Empress, I am an High Elf, I am a Ruler of a great Kingdom....But I am- or was- also just a girl- asking to be loved. And...you said no."

~*~*~

_The Shrieking Shack..._

Hermione enchanted a fire with a flick of her wand. It exuded warmth and light, but didn't burn the wood floor. The group had decided to pass the night at the Shrieking Shack, as it was quite close to the school. They had simply Apparated in, no questions asked. Chaos was in a trance-like sleep on the bed.

The thunder rumbled and the lightning illuminated the shack eerily for a short second. Harry wished he had a mug of tea- and then realised he could just conjure one up. They group eased themselves onto the dusty floor around the fire.

"Hey, I've got an idea- to pass the time, you know-" Hermione smiled, her eyes glittering mischievously. "Let's play truth or dare."

"Fine- it's just everyone has to be completely truthful, whatever it's about." Draco said, in a serious tone. "And never breathe a word of it ever again or to anyone else."

Harry looked doubtful, but Fleur laughed easily. "It will be fun. I do not know both of you very well, and Draco has never told me any of ze secrets." She glanced at Harry. "Harry will play also."

"Let's not do dares, okay? Truth is much more interesting." Draco smiled.

"Okay...um, I'll go first, shall I?" Hermione said. "Harry-" Hermione smiled rather evilly, as if savouring every second of time. "Are you a virgin?"

Harry looked mortified. "_Hermione!_" He gasped.

She laughed. "Answer the question, Harry."

Harry glanced at Draco before answering. "This is all your fault, you know, you've corrupted her."

"What can I say, I'm a bad influence."

Harry was torn between wanting to seem 'macho' and wanting to tell the truth. "Yeah."

"Kay, who did you come _closest_ with?" She asked, eyes twinkling.

"Hey, that's two questions! It's not fair."

"Sod fair, answer the question, Potter." Draco interjected.

"Yes, 'Arry, answer."

"Ginny- Ginny Weasley." He said, looking slightly embarrassed. "Look, don't tell Ron, will you?"

"Course not, but Harry, you never went out with her." Hermione said.

"Yeah, well, Lavender and I had just broken up and I was feeling down...you know how it is. I didn't mean to go as far as I did." Harry drummed his fingers on the floor nervously. "I apologised, told her it would never happen again and-"

"And asked Cho Chang out." Hermione finished. Harry had a hurt expression on his face.

"It wasn't like that! Ginny and me have no common interests-"

"Except snogging, don't forget the snogging, Potter." Draco reminded him.

"Look, it was a mistake. Draco, what about you- are _you_ a virgin?" He said quickly, to shift attention.

Draco shifted uncomfortably. "No."

Hermione tried to appear unconcerned. "Aha, so tell us yours, starting with the first."

Draco looked even more uncomfortable. "If you want to know, Potter, I don't remember, I was bloody drunk at the time. I don't even think I meant to-"

Harry wasn't even fazed. "That doesn't count, what about the next ones?"

"Um, Parry- Parthenope, she was the second one."

"Any more?" Hermione studied her nails.

"One." Draco said with difficulty. "Pansy Parkinson."

"Whatever happened to her? She left the middle of the year." Harry said. "Not that I miss her or anything..."

"She's dead." Draco replied, contrite. "Her whole family. Parkinson tried to defect and Voldemort found out. My father threw them all off the cliffs after Voldemort murdered them."

The room grew silent. The matter of fact way in which Draco said that three people had been murdered at his house was chilling.

"Fleur, your turn. Dish the dirt on your many suitors." Draco said, dispelling the pall of gloom.

"My first was zis boy- Antoine. He was sweet. Ah- after zat Roger Davies, from your school- we went out for six months after ze Tournament. Zen Bill- Bill Weasley, ah, he was a cool one." Fleur said, remembering the whole year Bill and she had been an item. "Zen Damien, and zat is all." She smiled at a flabbergasted Harry. "Ah, 'Ermionay, now you tell us."

Hermione didn't smile. "I came pretty close with-" She coloured slightly. " Viktor Krum and um, Dean Thomas. Remember, we went out after Lavender broke up with him to go out with you?" She told Harry.

"Don't I? He wouldn't talk to me for a month."

"My turn again- Draco-" She stopped, her smile dissipating. "You must be truthful."

"Aren't I always?"

"Draco-" Her voice had faded to a whisper. "Have you ever- killed anyone?"

"You mean myself...or by my inaction?"

"Both."

"I have watched my father, the Death Eaters and Voldemort kill countless people. People you might even know. Ministry people, important people who refused Voldemort and defectors. These years, like the beginning years of Voldemort's ascent, have been marked with disappearances and killings. I've seen most of them." He stopped.

"But I have killed myself- before, before everything...my father used to make me kill the prisoners for training." His face was set in stone. "It feels like- nothing. I never knew those people, they weren't exactly human to me, you know? They were alive, but I never identified with them. Maybe I would have felt remorse if I had known their family and their friends."

"I'm not proud of it, but I feel no remorse. I didn't care. There is no power in killing. There is no power in death. Nobody's afraid of death, per se, they're just afraid of not living."

---  
|| _Just outside the shrieking shack..._

Draco walked in silence. Hermione followed him. He spun around suddenly.

"Do I scare you, Mia?"

Hermione hesitated but stiffened her resolve. "Sometimes, Draco, yes."

"Why?"

"Because you're so wonderful to me, but so ruthless to everyone else. You're so contrasting, Draco. It's like you've got a split personality, one is Draco Malfoy...and the other Sorceror Valwracen."

"I'm not asking if you _will_ love me after the war, Mia. I'm asking if you _can_. Can you ever love Sorceror Valwracen?"

"I- don't know. One thing I do know, Draco, love is not only blind, but completely insane. It shows up in the oddest of places. All I understand is that I love you now. Tomorrow's much too bleak. Live for today."

"_Carpe diem_." Draco whispered, drawing closer. "Seize the day."

He kissed her.

---  
|| _In front of Hogwarts, the Graduation ceremony is nearly complete..._

Fleur looked around for Padma, Ron, Sirius and Lupin. They were supposed to meet them at this spot, in fact, they were five minutes overdue. The crunching sound of footfalls on the soft, leafy earth rang out behind her. She turned with a welcoming smile on her face.

"Padma- _mon dieu!_ What is wrong?" Padma's clothes looked disheveled, her right cheek had a fearsome deep yellow-purple bruise on it and her face was tear-streaked. "Harry, Draco, come quickly!" She called, behind her.

"What- Padma, Ron, are you alright?" Harry exclaimed, seeing Ron in the same condition behind her.

"Draco, Harry- I'm so...sorry." Tears ran down her face afresh. "They attacked us in the night- someone had tipped them off. They just- just came in and started destroying...everything. They found Ron and me in the Library and tied us up. I refused to tell him where the others were so-"

"Who's 'him'?" Draco asked sharply.

"Lucius Malfoy." Ron said, grimly. His voice shook, but he was much calmer. He was holding his left arm and wincing. "He hit her, so I tried punching him out with my left."

"Never a good choice. Father's got lots of practice defending himself." Draco remarked.

"I noticed. Unfortunately he caught my arm and- dislocated it, I think. So then all these Death Eaters go barging through the house. They found Lupin- he was with Sirius. They tied them up and they- they took them, Harry- both of them."

"Then I managed to do a Summoning Spell without my wand and call it to me. I snapped the ropes and we rushed upstairs to Narcissa." Padma's face twisted and she sobbed softly then stopped. "You-Know-Who was already in there. He was talking to her real calm and all. Saying some stuff about your sister and her father. I wasn't listening- but then she said 'never' in this really clear voice. I think he put a Lucidity Charm on her. He got all crazy and just freaked. He started pacing the room and threatening her. Then he said he'd make her drink VeritaSerum, he had this vial of it. Then she said 'you'll never know' and then she- she...."

Padma wiped her eyes. "She took her wand and- Draco, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry- she killed- herself."

Draco was surreally calm. His eyes glittered menacingly and his face had hardened irrevocably. He slowly stepped backwards, almost as if in a daze. Hermione reached out to touch his shoulder. He jerked his body away harshly, still looking down. He glanced at her, finally.

"You love me, don't you Hermione?...Well, she loved me, too." He turned away. "You'll be next."

"Why is he doing this?" Harry whispered. Draco turned and glared at him.

"Isn't it _obvious_, Potter? He's showing us that perhaps _we_ can defend ourselves, but we're still vulnerable. He's telling us he can crush everything dearest to us at the merest moment." Draco's voice was bitter.

"There's not supposed to be any trickery before the War." Ron said, his voice monotonic.

"You think Voldemort cares?" Draco had thrown back his head and straightened to his fullest height. The black glittery cape billowed behind him on a ghost wind. "I will crush his armies soldier by soldier if I must. Voldemort will be killed."

"Malfoy, isn't that impossible?" Harry asked hoarsely.

"No." Draco looked thoughtful. "He still cherishes hopes of Ascending to the Trident. To become part of the Trident you must someday die, or someone else must give you immortality. Voldemort took it, that is not allowed. On the date of Ascension, his mortal years will catch up with him. He should have been dead many times over already. Whether he Ascends or not, he will be dead. Our job is to make sure he doesn't Ascend."

Padma and Ron looked at a loss. Padma suddenly remembered something. "Harry, Draco, he left this letter addressed to you two. Told us to deliver it."

Harry tore open the letter and showed the contents to Draco.

_ You may be invulnerable but your family and friends are not. Beware, for your love is like the Mark of Death upon the loved ones._

The WereWolf and the Dementors Prisoner are with us. Perhaps they will be returned to you, then perhaps not. Narcissa Malfoy is dead. If we cannot punish you then they will be punished in your stead.

This is a warning, Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. Heed it well, or lose everything you love. 

---  
|| _Outside Hagrids Hut, a minute to go..._

Harry heard voices inside the hut, Dumbledore was probably giving them their presents now. Silence descended. Harry waited a few extra moments before giving the signal to move in. He knocked on the door.

Dumbledore opened it. "How'd it go?"

"Depends." Harry said, his voice heavy. "We got the Healer. We rescued Narcissa and Sirius, but Narcissa was injured. Some of her soul was sucked out, she was blind and only semi-lucid. Lupin and Fleur joined us. We left Padma, Ron, Lupin, Sirius and Narcissa at Malfoy Manor when we went to find Chaos. Padma and Ron met us at the Front gate. Sirius and Lupin have been taken and Narcissa's dead."

"I'm sorry it turned out like this. Voldemort will return his captives, I am sure of it." The pale blue fire was blazing. "We will defeat his minions and him." "For that we'll have to start training." Draco said, his face normal once more. 

"Yes, thousands have started arriving at Hogwarts. I have already set up training posts all over the grounds. We just need people to man them. You six, Chaos, we require you elsewhere, will be at the main posts. You'll need to know Archery, Swordfighting or fencing, hand-to-hand combat, Spearhandling, Strategems of War and Flying."

"But I don't know the first thing about SwordFighting!" Hermione burst out.

"Yes, but Draco does. Each one of you are especially adept at a one task. Teach each other so you may teach others."

"Right, I'll do the SwordFighting and fencing." Draco said.

"Archery. It's the only sport I'm actually good at." Hermione said, as the others stared.

"I'll do Stratagems of War, it's quite like chess." Ron said wearily.

Harry looked undecided. "I'm best at hand-to-hand, but who'll do the flying-"

"Don't worry, I'll 'andle the Flying." Fleur said, pronouncing 'flying' more like 'fleeing'.

"'Kay, I'm doing spearhandling, then." Padma remarked.

"But can you?" Draco looked skeptical. In reply, Padma pulled her broom from the backpack and enlarged it.

One second Draco was smiling smugly and the next he was on the floor, still grinning. "Believe me?"

"Oh yeah." He replied, rubbing his ribs. "She's definitely doing the SpearHandling."

---

---


	14. DeathSong

**Harry Potter & the Trident's Curse**

---

_You can love someone so fiercely that you think you could die, but that doesn't mean that you're going to be happy together._

|HPTC-Hermione Granger|

---

**Part 14 -** DeathSong

_One of the training posts..._

Hermione Granger held the spear in her hand, and with a weary sigh, jabbed forwards, back and side to side in slow motion. In front of her, ten eager pupils tried to repeat her movements. A volley of 'ow's and 'get that out of my side's rose up.

"Slower this time, don't make jerking movements." She said, in the perpetual teacher's voice.

As she taught her fifteenth class, her thoughts wandered. The endless repetition of movements lulled her into a trance-like state. She wondered where Draco was, and what he was doing. She hadn't been able to see him much lately. Hermione was vaguely concerned, he seemed to be snapping at everyone a lot and generally being extremely irritable.

He had shouted at her once, but apologised later. It was as if he was metamorphosing from her Draco Malfoy to someone completely different. Someone who didn't understand kindness or tolerance. Hermione sighed deeply and wondered if it had all been folly. Folly to think that Draco could love her and satisfy her.

Then she thought back to their last kiss, it had been very satisfying. His kiss had more urgency and yearning as they approached the War. Searing kisses of undying love. _I'm experiencing what every girl dreams of...true love. And I'm understanding that true love doesn't make a relationship._ She thought, with realisation. _You can love someone so fiercely that you think you could die, but that doesn't mean that you're going to be happy together._

With chilling finality, Hermione understood the bond between them. They reminded her of Romeo and Juliet, doomed from the start to be torn asunder. Perhaps if Romeo and Juliet had lived, their passion would not have.

That was exactly how she and Draco were. Their love was a passionate, beautiful interlude. It would never survive in the long run. Their love would be eternal, but their physical bond would not last. They now existed on a curious sort of middle ground between each others' worlds.

_Everything is just so- surreal._

"Now, watch me carefully." They had finished their SpearHandling and were beginning hand-to-hand combat.

She demonstated a few punches, kicks and blocks with ease. Her muscles had shrugged out of their initial stiffness and ache and were now used to the gruelling physical work.

Hermione grimaced. She would have to demonstrate basic flying next, and brooms weren't exactly her transport of choice.

---  
|| _Draco's training post..._

One batch of pupils were just departing from the training centre. Draco watched them go with mixed awe and disdain. He had never seen such a diverse group of individuals, united only because of their allegiance with Dumbledore and against Voldemort. Many were Mudbloods or outcasts.

He closed his eyes and felt the familiar tug of the Sorceror's world. In the blink of an eye he was once more within the musty library. He turned. The visions were becoming more and more real as time passed.

_ "I see you have made your decision, Draco Argentus Valwracen Malfoy- Sorceror Valwracen is a more fitting name."_

"It's the only way I can defeat Voldemort." Draco did not return the greedy smile of the man.

"Do you know that you are being considered for the Trident along with your two friends?" Draco started.

"Then why are you helping me? I thought you wanted to kill Voldemort because he was trying to Ascend." 

"Excellent question. The answer is- my time in the Trident is over. At whatever time you Ascend, you only truly take over from the old members once you have lived 100 years or once you die. Voldemort is much closer to achieving his 100 years than you. You will most probably be the next." Daemersgrale seemed resigned. "As long as I keep you alive, I will still rule."

"Will you train me to lead my armies?"

The Sorceror smiled. "Yes. Let us begin..."

What seemed like hours later, he was expunged into reality. He was slowly controlling his entrances and exits into the Sorceror's abode. Draco glanced at his watch, a self-satisfied expression on his face. Not a minute had passed. He saw Hermione and Harry come towards the training posts and assumed everyone had taken ten.

Hermione had a timid half-smile on her face, almost a simper. For some indefinable reason she irritated Draco. Everything about her, the smile, the face...she was plain trouble. His fine instinct for self-preservation should have warned him about her. She was the root of all his problems.

Draco shook his head, disgruntled. _I always feel so bloody touchy after a meeting with the Sorceror._

"Draco...why-" Draco Malfoy cut her off.

"Do you want to change me, Hermione?" He snapped, out of the blue.

"What?" Her expression was startled.

"Am I some altruistic bloody crusade that you've taken up for the world's benefit? I'm told chicks do that all the time." _I didn't even know I fucking felt this way..._

Hermione looked deeply shocked, but in a heartbeat, her expression changed to indignant rage. "Sod you, Draco Malfoy! If that's all you bloody well think of me. You're so unpredictable. Bloody hell, when I come to say hello I don't know whether to expect you to kiss me or yell at me." She drew herself up to her full height. "I've had enough."

"Aw, shit. I'm sorry, Mia. Look, it's just all this tension and the war and all. I just met with the Sorceror and I'm always a dickhead after that. It'll wear off." He said, hopefully. The periods when his angry self was in control seemed to be increasing rapidly.

He simply could not fathom how he could feel such raging inner turmoil, yet complete his day-to-day life tasks. His relationship with Mia was frayed, and he knew that. It would have to be mended...yet now was not an opportune time.

"The rest of us have problems, too, Draco. It's hard on everyone." Her voice seemed strained almost to the point of cracking. She was openly resentful. "What with Sirius and Lupin gone, and Dumbledore sick-"

Her lips trembled as she mentioned Dumbledore's name. He had seemed fine just yesterday and had suddenly gone down with a severe case of influenza. The case was so unexpected that many believed it to be some kind of attack by Voldemort. Rumours were rife, and morale was being depleted.

Draco's cheeks reddened. "It is especially hard on me." He gritted his teeth. "I must not only bow to the wishes of the Sorceror, learn enough to survive and actually fight the battle...but I must also face my own father in the battlefield. I may hate him- but he is flesh and blood. I've lost enough people to Voldemort."

"We each have our personal demons." Harry entered into the conversation.

"A particularly large one in my case-" Draco screwed up his face. "-one which breathes fire, has foot long claws and eats eight people for breakfast." He stopped. "I just don't need relationship issues now."

"The world doesn't revolve around you, Malfoy." Harry said. Draco looked at him with an unreadable expression.

"No. It revolves, Potter, around _you_." 

---  
|| _Four days later, the fifth of July..._

Teams had been deployed to Greenland well in advance of the Armies' arrival. The whole Quidditch Pitch had been converted into a giant portkey, set to go off at fifteen minute intervals. A group of about a thousand could be teleported at once. In Greenland, the large TimeFreeze had been initiated by a large team of specialists, led by Minerva McGonagall. The incantation could not be completed until all had arrived.

The air seemed to tingle with the impending event. The weather was chilly, but not bothersomely so. The site chosen was quite nearby the ruined city of Erzmyn Szreil, the Mesopotamia of WizardKind. It's great stone structures, resembling StoneHenge, rose defiantly above the frosted lands.

At the far ends of the designated battlefield two immeasurable large horseshoes gleamed. They were to form administrative, strategical, intelligence and medical centers as well as congregation points for the war. The eastern one was an uniform Slytherin Green in colour. A large flag of the Dark Mark was unfurled above the middle.

The other horseshoe was far more vibrant. It was divided into five equal, separate areas of colour. Hermione had opted for a cool blue for her armies, Harry's were denoted by the scarlet red area, Celeste LaSeule had chosen deep gold and Albus Dumbledore's portion in the middle was a neutral, clear white. The last colour on the huge horseshoe was a dark black, which was unmistakably Draco Malfoy's colour.

Large numbers of people appeared, disoriented, into the centre of the horseshoe. Harry, Hermione and Celeste were sorting out the crowd and dispersing them. Smaller independant groups appeared. Draco stood at the entrance to his part of the HorseShoe. Dumbledore's absence was conspicous. Each person who arrived was divided into Harry, Hermione, Albus or Celeste's armies. Draco only led those who chose to fight for him.

A few tough, hardened characters had assembled themselves by his side. Many of Voldemort's former cronies, filled with tales of Draco's power, had swelled his ranks. Alyewn was comfortably nestled in the huge barn behind the horseshoe. Oddly, both Hermione and Celeste looked suited to their physically challenging roles. Commanding a large army was more strategy, planning and pep-talks than actual fighting.

The atmosphere was charged and electric. Within an hour, most people had found their niche. Military discipline and titles were suddenly everywhere. Squadrons were being established, but the hierarchy remained simple- the posts were oversimplified, in fact. It went Soldiers- Squadron Leaders- Commanders- Captains- Generals. There were five Generals, each General had ten Captains, each Captain had ten Commanders and each Commander had ten Squadron Leaders.

As they passed through the designated door, each person was equipped with chainmail and protective clothing and gear, a tunic in their colour, a specially designed holster which strapped to their back, a crossbow and quiver or arrows, two dismantled spears, a sword and a shield, a compact broom, first aid kit and rations.

In the uppermost room of the white centre column, Chief Tactical Officer Ronald Weasley was hunched over a sheaf of papers and vividly coloured map. Clusters of dots represented each army, and he was moving them about, muttering feverishly. Three assistants hurried around, collecting arcane and trivial data to lose in their badly organised offices.

Ron tried to ignore the raucous sounds of alcohol-induced laughter from below. The goblins had taken up residence in Dumbledore's army, since none other wanted the trouble. Facts about the Goblin Wars and Rebellions that had been drilled into his head in History of Magic kept floating into his thoughts. The giants would only arrive after the battles had begun.

They were hiding out close by, which could be any distance taking into account Giant Strides. Their cooperation with Dumbledore was mainly because of Olympe Maxime and Hagrid's expedition into the country. Since each had giant blood they were grudgingly accepted into their stronghold.

For the whole of Ron's fifth year Care of Magical Creatures was taught by a frail, soft-spoken Professor called Andre D'Angelo. Many teachers had been missing from Hogwarts that year. Snape had come back more hate-filled and bitter than ever. Minerva McGonagall had gone missing for three months. Hermionesaid that she had been told that Minerva had a gift for languages, and probably knew more than Dumbledore himself. He supposed she had gone to convince the goblins to help them.

But after that fifth year, things settled down. There was always the occasional disappearance and murder, but WizardKind had become numb to grief. The Aurors had returned in full force, and could be seen patrolling almost everywhere.

There was nothing unusual about sixth year except that summer Harry had been chosen to play for the Edinburgh Eagles, the youngest player ever to enter professional Quidditch. He had beaten even Viktor Krum to it. That was the only year that the Edinburgh Eagles won the All England Quidditch Cup, beating the Glasgow Grindylows by 50 points.

This summer was supposed to be the time when he played World Class Quidditch. Ron knew Harry had dreamed of a face-off with Viktor Krum.

Ron stopped his mind wandering. "Jackson, check these numbers- be quick about it."

Ron handed the assistant a sheet of printed paper. He nodded deferentially and jogged out of the room, double time. Ronald Weasley leaned back in his leather chair and sighed. He had found his dream job.

---  
|| _Hermione's column, very early morning..._

A figure clad in a black bodysuit nimbly broke the Sealing Charm on the entrance door and cautiously pushed it in. The alarms had been triggered. She- the shape was obviously feminine- smiled in contempt at the paltry excuse for security.

She slid out her wand and muttered a Locator Spell. Her wand pointed to the main quarters, upstairs. There she would find her quarry. The door was already half-open. The figure gave a satisfied sort of grunt. 

"_Dormi ad revivium_." She muttered, putting Hermione into a sleep till she was ready for her.

With an amazing lack of sound, she heaved the tall, healthy Hermione Granger onto her shoulder. She allowed herself another smile, and with admirable agility and speed, retraced her steps, closed and re-spelled the door behind her and ran into the dark night.

Her soft footfalls crunched on the frost covered snow. Soon she slowed down, her legs were breaking the top layer of newly descended snow and entering the wet slush below. She pulled herself along till they reached the nearby site of Erzmyn Szreil. A large arch loomed over the figures' head. She propped the sleeping Hermione against the rough hewn altar.

The snow was pristine white. She removed her black muffler and mask and ran her fingers through her short, spiky hair. The woman had piercings all over her body. Her nose was double pierced and she had one bar going through her eyebrow. Six holes adorned one ear while the other remained untouched. Her hair was streaked silver and the spikes stood stiffly hair-sprayed.

"Well, well, well..." She had a throaty, low voice. "So you're the wonderful Hermione Granger. _Enervate._" She wore an enthusiastic smile. Hermione awoke with a start and a chill.

She jerked straight and stopped leaning on the stone surface. "Who are you?" She tried not to betray any emotion in her voice.

"Senneca Liebermann- I used to be in the Secret Intelligence Service- MI-6, Wizarding Sector. But I suppose now you could call me a spy for the Dark Lord." She replied tersely..

"What do you want with me?" Hermione groped in her pyjamas for her wand. _Damn, left it on the bedside table._

"Well, my Master wishes to deliver a message." As if in slow motion, she drew out a long, glinting sword.

With a lethal and practiced swing, she plunged the sword into Hermione's chest. Hermione felt herself gasp and detach herself from the trauma inflicted on her body. A thin, reedy scream escaped her lips. She could feel her blood pulsing out of her. If the sword hadn't hit her heart, it had certainly rent one of the main arteries.

_This is just like what I saw happen to Draco...it's the same place..._ She thought, as her vision blurred and lights dimmed.

She felt a desultory pounding in her head and felt herself sag down into the white snow. The trickle of blood had already darkened the frost around her.

Senneca Liebermann swallowed and pressed her fingers over her lips to keep from vomiting. Despite her feigned nonchalance, she loathed her role as Voldemort's assassin. Especially when it came to dealing with defenceless people. The girl was merely a few years younger than her and it was patently obvious she was not an intelligence agent.

Senneca covered up Hermione's body with some snow. She bent down.

"I'm sorry. Your spooks-" She used MI-6 vernacular in referring to Intelligence Agents. "-have probably picked up on my break in by now. Master told me to trigger the alarms. They might even find you here- _if_ they get past my defences."

Senneca pulled the black mask on and wiped the look of self-disgust from her face. If she didn't kill Granger, her master would kill her. It was an easy choice to make.

She sighed. The dawn was approaching and she had a long way to run.

---  
|| _Intelligence Headquarters, Senneca has just entered the building..._

"What in the name of blue hell is that girl trying?" A weathered man sitting in a large chair asked incredulously. "There's nobody there but General Granger's army."

"Damn, Jimmy, that girl's got to be Senneca Liebermann. She was in my squad and I know the way she moves. She won't be here just to rattle us, Jimmy, that's for sure. She's got real meat cooking." An equally old, but sharp-eyed man answered. He sipped his coffee dubiously and then stared at it in disgust.

"Better not alert her to our presence now- she could give away something." Jimmy stopped and stared at the Security Monitor. "Bleeding hell, Raef, she's carrying someone out-"

"Oh, fuck, it's the General-" Raef moaned, leaping to his feet. 

The two agents raced down to the stores. They followed the Automatic Tracking Spell Senneca had triggered. Halfway there, they were greeted by a barrier. Jimmy ran into it first, giving himself a nasty concussion.

"Ah, nice bit of work, eh? Taught her myself." Even though the obstacle had stopped them, Raef could not help the note of pride in his voice. "That also means I can undo it simple."

A shrill scream echoed through the crisp air. Raef muttered softly. The barrier gleamed for a second and then vanished.

They glanced around, unsure of the originating point. A large white pegasus neighed and started to gallop to the left. Raef and Jimmy were smart enough to know they should follow.

Raef Smithson reached the site quick enough to see a figure in the distance, running away.

He turned his gaze to the General. One look and he knew the extent of her injuries. "Oh, shit. Jimmy, call meds, her friends...her family. The poor lassie ain't gonna last too long." Jimmy complied. Arion nuzzled Hermione's neck.

Hermione barely even heard the words or felt Arion's touch. She shivered involuntarily and then ceased. She was suddenly starting to feel warm. She let the feeling travel through her body with delight. Her brain was too shocked to recognise the most dangerous stage of hypothermia. She was literally freezing to death.

Raef took off his cloak and wrapped it around the shivering girl. Her lips were blue and her eyelids caked with frost. "General Granger, Hermione Granger, can you hear me?"

Hermione heard the words echoed and magnified. She wanted to signal to him but she felt too drowsy...

"You must not- I repeat- must not fall asleep. Stay with me, Hermione!" He held her wrist in his hands, taking her pulse. Raef turned to Jimmy. "Where are those damn meds, I don't know what the bloody hell to-"

He stopped and let her wrist fall to the ground. He leaned in and tried to listen to heart sounds. He bit his lip. There were none.

"Magic's End, Jimmy, she's dead." He whispered.

The sound of many feet running could be heard in the gloom.

The paramedics shoved their stretcher into the snow and knelt to take a pulse. The senior one glanced at Raef. He shook his head slightly. More people were arriving behind them.

A pale blond boy had ripped forward. The paramedics tried to restrain and soothe him but he fought them. "Let me go, you blithering idiots!" He roared. He elbowed one in the stomach and toppled the other one with a well-aimed kick to the shins. "Hermione..."

He had knelt beside her and had her wrist in his fingers. For the first time, she didn't feel warm to his icy touch. Raef recognised the boy with growing incredulity as Lucius Malfoy's son, MI-6 had spent years trying to lock his father away.

His voice was barely above a whisper. "No- no...you can't leave me, Mia...no, come back. You're not dead...I'll never accept that you're dead...you can't do this- I'm sorry..." He placed her wrist on the ground gently and buried his face in his hands. He threw his head back and screamed the barbaric, agonised scream of the damned. 

He cradled her head in his lap and stroked the frizzy, beautiful hair. Harry dropped to his knees. "Hermione..." He whispered. "No..."

Draco looked at Harry, green and grey connected for an instant in mutual grief. "The last thing I said to her was angry...I don't even remember what the argument was about..." Draco whispered, his voice hoarse.

Harry squeezed Draco's shoulder. "This can't be the end..." He shook his head in angry denial.

Ron was standing behind them silently. In an explosion of pent up rage he seized Draco's pyjama top. Draco gently laid her head on the ground before standing up. He was shaking. Draco had never shed a tear before in his life. Not even for his mothers' death. Not because he didn't want to, but he didn't know how to.

His eyes looked watery, as if the forbidden tears would begin coursing down his face any second.

"This is all your fucking fault!" Ron screamed, pushing Draco's chest. "If you had just left her- all of us- alone, she'd still be alive." His voice cracked with wrath and grief. "She loved you- and this is what you did to her!"

Draco did not look up, push back or retaliate in any way. He looked as if he would be sick any minute.

"You killed her, Draco Malfoy! You've killed her!" Ron yelled. Harry stood up, tears running down his face.

"Shut up, Ron. It's hard enough. What would Herm have thought?" Harry gripped him firmly by the shoulders and shook him.

"No, he's right. I am responsible." Draco said, in a strangled tone. He looked up, the glare of a madman met them all. "But she cannot be dead. I won't-" He said, through clenched teeth. An idea seemed to strike him. "Nobody touch her till I get back, or I swear I'll rip them limb from sodding limb."

"_Accio FireBolt Extra._" He said, holding his hand out. In a few moments he was on the broom and had zoomed far out of sight- heading towards Voldemort's horseshoe.

---  
|| (*A/N: should I finish here? Naw...that would be heartless*)

_General's quarters, Voldemort's horseshoe..._

Only one of the three generals of Voldemort's Army was inside the quarters.

Light flooded in as Draco Malfoy swung open the large entry door. His face was worn, and a deep worry line had formed on his forehead that would never leave his countenance. He was forever altered by the events of the night.

"I need your help." He said to the General.

The General laughed. "Ah, so _now_ you need my help?"

"I will do anything, pay any price you demand..."

"For what service?"

"I need you to reverse death."

"Who?"

"Hermione. Your Voldemort sent an assassin." He spat out the words.

"You do know that the process could kill me? It's a fifty percent probability. Even if it doesn't, it depletes the soul." She stopped. "Do you know the Law? The Law of Balance?"

"Yes."

"So you know you are sacrificing everything. It must be fulfilled within two years."

"Sooner."

"I don't understand your willingness to be k-"

"I told you, Parthenope, _anything_." Draco looked desperate.

"I just want one thing." The General's eyes narrowed. "You."

"Whatever you say." Parry's eyes lit up.

"You will marry me, Draco. I shall join you in the war. I don't care if you are unfaithful. You will marry me."

"Yes."

"Hermione Granger will not remember a thing once I bring her back...she will probably hate you forever." Parry smiled at the thought.

"I know." Draco bit his lip. "At least she will live."

Pathenope Czyren laughed hysterically. "Bit ironic, eh, Draco? Marrying me to save the love of your life who won't even understand what a great sacrifice you have made."

"Time runs short. You can only revive a person within twenty to thirty minutes. Let's leave."

---  
|| _The altar at the Ruined City..._

Hermione's body was already stiff by the time Draco returned. Harry looked in astonishment at his passenger. None had understood her significance.

Parry hopped off the broom and touched Hermione's forehead. She shivered and took a deep breath.

In the same beautiful, melodic voice she started a new song. It was almost painful to hear. The words were Gaelic in origin, soft and haunting. They spoke of terrible mourning, loss and bereavement. Each note seared through Draco's veins like molten lava. The song then drifted into cruel, twisting tunes that penetrated the listener, suffusing them with a feeling of hatred and desolateness- of the unsurmountable loneliness of death.

As they watched, the DeathSong transformed, growing fuller and more alive with each passing beat. Parthenope's fingers glowed with black-silver light and perspiration beaded her brow. Her song was being torn from her throat, and Draco could hear the effort behind it. He heard her wheeze and gasp in her breaths as the song moved at a faster tempo.

Swirling wind enveloped Hermione and the necromancer. The frost twisted in glittering spirals all around her. Parthenope drew the sword from Hermione's breast and tossed it aside. The song grew wild and reckless, sung with sheer joy and abandon. As she warbled the last fruity note, Parthenope's eyes flickered upwards, her chest heaved and she collapsed onto the snow.

Beside her Hermione gave a great gasp and shot upright.

"What happened?" She asked.

---

---


	15. Sanguinas

**Harry Potter & the Trident's Curse**  
---  
_War was not about an army, as he used to think. It was about each soldier, each tiny fight for survival..  
_ |HPTC-Harry Potter|  
--- 

**Part 15-** Sanguinas

_The altar, Erzmyn Szreil..._

*Beside her Hermione gave a great gasp and shot upright.

"What happened?" She asked.*

Draco dropped to his knees and put his arms around her. He kissed her passionately, with no regard for the onlookers. "Someone kidnapped you...we got here just in time." _Build upon the truth, that's what father always said..._ He thought.

Harry caught on and cleared his throat. "Yeah, Draco, um- rescued you."

"My prince charming..." She laughed.

Draco turned to Raef and Jimmy, muttering a memory charm under his breath. Their expressions became slightly confused.

"You two, intelligence officers, right?" Draco asked as they nodded. "Take her back, will you? And this time make sure she's safe."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harry putting a memory charm on the paramedics. Hermione allowed herself to be led away. Draco glanced at Parthenope's prone figure as Harry and Ron rounded on him.

"What the hell happened?" Harry yelled. "She was goddamn _dead_, Malfoy!"

"Parry brought her back."

"That's impossible unless it's Dark Magic!" Ron exclaimed.

"So what if it is? I couldn't just let her _die_." Draco narrowed his eyes. "I thought you'd be grateful."

"We are- don't get me wrong." Harry said, quickly. "Doesn't she remember anything?"

"No. She just went to bed and woke up here. And that's all she'll ever know."

"Why, Malfoy?" Ron asked. "I should think you'd want to boast about bringing her back from the dead."

"Because, Weasel...ly-Weasley-" Draco said, hurriedly, because of Harry's glance. "I'm going to do something gut-wrenchingly horrible to her." He glanced at Pathenope. "The only way we'll get through it is for her to hate me."

"What are you going to do-" Harry began.

"I'm going to marry Parthenope."

"What?" Ron's question was flabbergasted yet somehow gleeful.

"You're only seventeen!"

"There's no Wizarding Law against it, Potter." Draco drawled.

"But why, Draco. I know you love Hermione. How long has this thing between Parthenope and you been going on?"

"Oh, about fifteen minutes now, I should say." Draco looked menacing. "That was the price, Potter."

"What?"

"That was Parry's price for risking her life and soul for Mia." Draco glanced away and wished he had a cigarette. "What's with the fucking third degree. I saved her, isn't that enough? It was the only way."

"We're just worried about the- repercussions..."

"Aren't the Living Dead supposed to be soulless or something?"

"It's called the Law of Balance. The person who recalled the dead soul must perish in the same way- within two years."

"That would be Parthenope, right, Malfoy?" Harry asked.

"Wrong, Potter, that would be _me_."

A shocked silence prevailed. "I- don't know what to say, M-Draco." Harry whispered.

Draco dropped his gaze. _I haven't even told you the worst part yet, Potter..._ He thought, grimly.

"You must tell her, Draco." Harry insisted. "She'll be- worse- than dead."

"Don't you understand, Harry? If I tell her she'll spend the rest of her life miserable. She'll blame herself for my unhappiness and my deeds and she'll blame herself for my death. I know what it's like to feel as if you've killed your love. Believe you me Harry, she must never know..."

Draco shoved his hands into his pockets. "Hatred is the only thing that can sustain her now. If she hates me it'll give her a reason to live- and to be happy. She'll get on with her life just to prove to me she can."

"She can read minds." Ron interposed quietly. "What if she gets it out of us?"

"You'll just have to make sure she doesn't, won't you? Use the Protection Charm, it'll block your thoughts from her." Draco said. "Go on, get back. I need to talk to Parry."

Harry hesitated, then squeezed Draco's shoulder. "You're not as bad as you make out to be, Draco...I'm- proud- to have you as a friend."

"If you're waiting for reciprocation, it's not gonna happen, Harry." Draco smiled wanly. "Thanks. I thought you were supposed to, like, do 'worse than the dementors'-" He imitated Harry's warning to him. "-if I hurt her."

"I think I'll waive that option this time, Draco."

"I love her, you know."

"Yeah. I do. I don't think we'll be talking much after this, Draco."

"No...it'll be back to Hogwarts, I think. No, worse."

"So, goodbye, Malfoy. It's been- surreal." Harry turned and walked away, Ron right behind him.

Draco turned towards Parthenope. "_Enervate._" He muttered. "Get up, Countess." He mocked, shaking her.

She moaned and stirred. "Draco?"

"No, the Easter Bunny." Parry was on her feet.

"Where's the mudblood?"

"I didn't want to subject her to your presence." Draco started walking towards his HorseShoe. "So, are you coming tonight?"

"Obviously. The way you barged in and alerted everyone, the Master will have my head if I go back." "He's not your Master any more." Draco rubbed the handle of his FireBolt extra with his sleeve. "When shall we..."

He left the sentence incomplete, not wanting to say the dread word. "We'll be married right now...just in front of the proper Authority."

Draco did not acknowledge her words. "You'll officially be under my command. Don't pull anything and keep to yourself. If you say a word to Hermione I'll hurt you in a way that'll make the Cruciatus Curse feel like a tickle." Parthenope looked at him in wonder bordering on disbelief.

"You've changed."

"And don't you forget it."

---  
|| _Draco's private chamber, much later that night..._

Draco looked down at the plain wedding band on his finger. He felt defiled. Parry was in the bathroom and Draco was hoping she would not demand fulfillment of her conjugal rights.

He willed himself into the Sorcerors World...

_ Before he could even find his bearings, a loud, angry voice drummed in his ears. "You stupid, ignorant, altruistic fool!"_

Draco turned. "You are referring, perchance, to me?"

"Love-blind moron! Do you realise what you have done?" The silver eyes gleamed cold-hearted fury.

"I'm sure you'll enlighten me."

"Now you will-you _must_- die within two years! You will take my place much sooner than I anticipated. I will not stand for it. I might as well have aided Tom Riddle..."

"Well, you didn't and you can't because you chose me as your heir."

"Reverse what you have done or I will kill you, boy! Kill the girl instead of her k-"

"I will not. You do not control me, Sorceror. Besides, I am already your heir. If you kill me-your chosen heir, then by ancient law your bloodline will never yield another heir."

"Don't test my patience with history..."

"I am more powerful than you ever were." Draco looked as malicious as the Sorceror. "_Terrori Manifesto_."

The Sorceror cringed as the jet of grey light hit him. He screamed in fearful agony. His worst fears were manifesting themselves. "_Ceasium_." Daemersgrale's face smoothed.

"I shall depart from your mind forever, Sorceror Valwracen. You have proved yourself more powerful. I am not such a fool as Slytherin or Tom Riddle."

"I will win this war."

"Perhaps...I will be watching..."

---  
|| _Dawn, the next morning..._

Hermione gripped Arion's neck tightly, holding back the tears that threatened to flow down her puffy, sleep-craven face. Her army was behind her and they were on the battlefield, poised to start. She glanced to her right and bit her lip.

Draco was riding tall on Alyewn with his cape floating on the wind, three rows of assorted humans and dark creatures behind him and a black shadow of Dementors fanning out behind them. The Dementors had agreed to direct their powers only towards Voldemorts' Army. Parthenope Czyren stood beside him, a smug expression on her face.

On her finger was a large diamond ring. A wedding ring. Hermione had heard the news as she woke in the morning. Draco had married someone else. He wasn't simply going out with Parry, he had _married_ her. She hadn't believed it at first and she still didn't understand. He had kissed her so intensely simply hours before. She knew he loved her- so why had he married Parthenope?

Hermione shook her head. _This isn't the time for your problems, Herm...the Wizarding World is at stake..._ She told herself firmly. It was no use. _Amazing how little the fate of the World means when the person you love isn't beside you._

Celeste was to her left, Harry and Dumbledore ahead of her. Albus seemed to have recovered somewhat from the illness that had struck him so recently. He looked ready to fight along with the other multitudes behind him. Hermione was amazed at how many magic-users had assembled in the closed space. It seemed like half the world was fighting the War.

_Voldemort's supposed to have even more than us..._ She held her head high, wondering if the day could possibly bring any more surprises.

All of a sudden, figures appeared from the opposing horseshoe. Large trolls flanked the mass of people led by Voldemort. Their numbers were obviously depleted by the defection of the Undead and the Dementors, but they were still a formidable amount.

Harry could see not only humans, but Veela, Vampires, Banshees, Werewolves and almost every sort of Dark Creature he had ever seen. Voldemort was on Blacknight, his eyes flaming. A large cage was suspended from Blacknight's claws. Harry felt his stomach freeze.

Without even knowing it, he had flown his FireBolt towards it. He leapt off and gripped the bars of the cage. "_Alohomora_." He yelled. "No...oh God, no..."

Sirius and Remus were lying on the floor of the cage. Their bodies were stiff. "Heartrending reunion, but nothing will help them now." Voldemort called.

"You will die for this." Harry said, through clenched teeth. He muttered a spell and the cage disappeared. Without a backward glance he went back to the head of his Army.

"I am sorry, Harry." Dumbledore said, his eyes overbright. "We have already lost too many of our sympathisers...Sirius, Remus, Narce Ha-"

"Narcissa Malfoy was not with us?" Harry asked, incredulous.

"Oh, she was- a courageous woman, she sacrificed everything for us. She was the only way we were informed of Voldemort's plans. But that isn't our story. We must write our own, and not draw from the past." Dumbledore looked older and more vulnerable than Harry had ever seen.

Harry's face clouded. "I can't believe- they're not going to be beside me when I fight." He whispered.

"Where did you transport them?"

"Inside our horseshoe. I will give them a proper burial. It just seems so- worthless..."

"Come, let us give their deaths value. We must win this War, Harry...we must."

"And we will."

Voldemort appeared disinterested, but his eyes widened when he saw Hermione alive. He turned back. "Senneca."

She appeared and bowed low. "Yes, my Lord?"

"Hermione Granger still lives. You have failed. You know what the cost of failure is..."

"But, Master, I killed her! I speak the truth!" Senneca glanced around. "The Necromancer, she must have brought her back..."

Voldemort considered. "That would complete the puzzle...you are correct."

A small man Apparated into the middle ground. It was Georg, the moderator at the Meet of Mages. His voice was magnified. "Please let me remind you that magic is not allowed. Wands will not work. Natural magic, such as that possessed by Mensamagi and Elemagi is allowed. May the battles commence!"

For a fraction of a moment, nothing happened. Then Parthenope's voice filled the surrounding area. Within seconds, all manner of zombies, spirits and living dead had gathered behind her. Draco had lifted his wand and electric light was pouring from it. Alyewn screamed a great battle cry as small dots in the sky grew larger and larger.

At least five hundred huge dragons clogged the air. Harry was sure he recognised the Hungarian Horntail he had battled at the Triwizard Tournament. Since Dragons did not obey mortal time, the TimeFreeze did not affect them.

The ground shook and trembled as the giants arrived on the battleground. The generals yelled "Charge!". Almost in unison, each army rushed forwards. Like six writhing snakes they clashed in the middle. The deafening roar of metal on metal filled the air.

Draco drew out his crystal hafted sword and started slashing at anything wearing Slytherin Green. Alyewn breathed searing fire at those nearby. Draco felt oddly at ease in the tense surroundings. He had been brought up to survive and this was a place where surviving was the whole aim. He felt no remorse as people fell to his bloodied sword.

Hermione tried to close her mind to the powerful emotions emanating from almost every fighter. The screams of the wounded were harder to block out.

"Now!" She yelled, to her line of Archers, as she let loose an arrow. Hurriedly, she pulled another from her quiver and fitted it into her bow.

_Kill or be killed. The Law of the Jungle._ She thought, disgusted.

Harry held a sword in one hand and spear in the other. He floated slightly above everyone else on his Firebolt Extra, lending a hand to those in trouble. Dumbledore had told him to motivate people. The merest sight of the Boy Who Lived gave hope to the combatants.

As he wiped the blood from his spear, Harry felt disgusted. War was not about an army, as he used to think. It was about each soldier, each tiny fight for survival.

Celeste LaSeule wondered how she had gotten mixed up in this. Uptil a few months ago, she had simply been a damn gifted alchemist, now she was a General in the Coalition Army. A flash of well-aimed lightning spouting from a man's hands held her gaze for a few seconds till a tornado whipped a few people spinning into the air. Elemental Magic.

A figure grabbed her wrist and tried to flip her. Celeste delivered a punch to his midriff and a fast kick under his chin. He sagged and crumped to the ground. She took out her dagger and plunged it into the back of a werewolf attacking a man wearing her colour, deep golden yellow.

The werewolf turned on her, snarling, but the man was up. With quick reflexes, he plunged a spear straight into it's heart. "Thanks, General LaSeule." He muttered.

"Anytime." Celeste bent and pulled the dagger from the werewolf's back and wondered how she could be so heartless.

Albus Dumbledore had the blue fire blazing in his eyes. He was quick with his sword and feet but his movements were strained. His eyes had been magically corrected just for the occasion. He suppressed the need to cough.

He had forced and dragged himself out of his bed that morning. Every muscle and fibre of his body rebelled. He had been coughing up blood on a regular basis. Just to be there had required QuickHeal Enchantments, Energy Charms and more than a few Health Booster Talismans. They helped, but they were temporary.

He had been using them to conceal his grave illnesses for a year in the least. They were becoming less and less effective. Once the war was over, if he was alive, of course, Dumbledore knew the strain would catch up to him. He wondered how the world would face his death...

Padma Patil could not help smiling. Through the destruction around her, her face glowed. Last night Ronald Weasley had proposed to her. She could remember the exact words...

_"Padma, I have something important to talk to you about."_

"So talk."

"Tonight I've had an experience. I've realised my-our mortality. I'm- afraid that if I don't do this now...I may never get the chance." He stopped and blushed deep red. "Will you marry me?"

She had accepted, of course. Somehow, marriage at sixteen or seventeen was much more plausible now. The atmosphere of war was different. Death could pounce at any moment, and they truly lived life as if they would die tomorrow. It was a very real possibility.

But then again, Padma and Ron were simply engaged, they would probably wait a few years before actually getting married. In Padma's mind, though, they were already wed.

Ron Weasley tried to observe what was happening in the battle. As planned, the giants had broken away and were encircling Voldemort's Army. He hoped that the others were following the Plan. His mind wandered and his grip on the spear loosened.

Cold fingers wrenched it out of his hands and wrestled him through the floor. Ron looked up into red eyes and elongated fangs. _A Vampire!_ He screamed mentally. He tried to wrench ths spear from the long fingers to stake the creature.

He wondered how come it could come into the light and realised that she was fully covered. Her face was covered by a DeathEaters mask and her hands gloved. There was a jagged hole revealing the two large, dripping fangs.

Ron felt a double prick and excruciating pain as the Vampire began to drink his blood. He felt the fangs shift suddenly and the Vampire crumbled into glittering dust. "Let's _try_ not to get killed, okay, Ron?" Bill Weasley said, flippancy masking his concern. "You okay, did she-"

Ron brushed Bills' fingers away from the bloody wound. "I'll be fine. Thanks."

"Thats pro bono, I charge for the next time I save your butt."

Inside the horseshoe, Chaos was sitting on the cold floor in a dark corner. She hugged herself to her knees and rocked, muttering. The pain and savagery of the war was roaring through her brain. She could almost taste the hurt.

_Either man is obsolete, or War is..._ She thought, disconsolately.

---  
|| _The Horseshoe, around the General's campfire_

"Both armies have been depleted...our losses are almost equal. This might even turn into a battle of attrition, we are so equally matched." Dumbledore rubbed his beard thoughfully.

Attrition was when two armies were deadlocked, the Generals decided they would just try and wear each other down. Both armies would suffer great losses, but the army which was hardier and could survive better won.

"We would then lose." Harry interjected. "We have more people, but their army consists mainly of dark creatures who don't suffer from fatigue, hunger or thirst. We have to beat them in an out and out battle. Strategy is our weapon, we must use it to it's fullest. Ron-"

"We had a bit of a mix-up, evidently, the Dragons had a little trouble distinguishing Celeste's blue from You-Know-Who's green."

"Alyewn says instead of changing the colour, why not change the helmets? We all have black helmets, if we coated them in silver or gold-" Draco said.

"What's the difference?" Hermione snapped back at him, shrilly.

"The Dragons aren't good with colour, but matte and shine they can distinguish well. If we have shiny helmets and Voldemorts Army doesn't they'll manage fine." Draco was still addressing the crowd and not Hermione.

They hadn't talked since she had awoken from the Necrosurrection trance. She avoided his eyes, but, as Draco had predicted, tried to pretend nothing was wrong. Draco wondered how long the damn war would last. The TimeFreeze could only be active for two months before it's effects became permanent.

"Excellent. Is that all?"

Celeste looked up. "The Draught is finished."

"Does it work?" Hermione asked, doubtfully. "How did you check, the effect take time to-?"

"Hermione, you forget we use magic. I tested it magically- it works." Her voice was a drained rather than triumphant. _I've achieved my Life's goal..._ Celeste thought unhappily. _What do I do now?_

"Excellent. We will destroy it tomorrow. Who will keep a vial of it for the ceremony?" Dumbledore asked. The only way to erase something from the collective past, present and future memory of humanity was to keep one vial of the elixir around someone's neck and to destroy the rest of it with the Erasure Ceremony. It worked somewhat like the Fidelius Charm, as long as the wearer chose not to reveal the secret, the formula would be safe.

"I will." Celeste offered.

"Too obvious. You are the creator. We must choose someone they would not suspect." dumbledore glanced around. "Hermione...would you?" Harry was too famous, Ron would not be the kind, Draco could not be trusted that far and Dumbledore himself was not going to last long.

"Of course." She replied, somewhat surprised.

"That's it then. Get a good night's rest, build some morale." Harry said, standing up and brushing himself off. He took Hermione's hand and led her away, Ron was headed to the Strategy Room. Draco regarded Harry and Hermione for a second. It was so comfortable, the way she rested against him, the way his arm draped casually accross her shoulder.

Harry might not become Hermione's lover, but Draco could never be her best friend. At this particular moment, Draco did not know which was better.

Harry hugged Hermione concernedly. "Herm, I have to go see Cho...will you be all right?" He felt a guilty twinge.

Hermione's grimaced for a second. "Sure, I'll be fine. See you tomorrow, on the battlefield."

Harry turned and headed left. Hermione was too tired to realise that he was walking in the opposite direction to Cho's room. She collapsed onto her bed and sealed the door with bolts and locking charms. She rolled onto her side and turned on her Wizards Wireless and sighed with contentment.

The newest band, Violet Fire, was playing their hit song, Shatter. The drums seemed to throb into her mind and the lead singers' voice spoke to her heart.

__

When your world is a crystalline dream

It's so easy to forget that illusion

Is not at all what it may seem

And cannot last- it simply shatters.

A million pieces of memories divine

The shards of what could have been

Remembrance of when my life was mine

I lay scattered accross the floor.

---  
|| _Senneca Liebermann's room, Voldemort's HorseShoe..._

Senna Liebermann, as she preferred to be called, paced the room nervously. A large tapestry of Salazar Slytherin noiselessly curled aside. "Senna, what's wrong?" The voice was normal, on the verge of concerned.

"Nothing. I didn't think you'd come today." The man took her arm and sat beside her on the large bed.

"You're not angry at me for what happened in the battlefield, are you, sweet? You know I have to keep up appearances." He was soothing, whispering softly in her ear.

Senna drew away slightly. "It seemed like more than an appearance. You would have tortured me, would you?"

The figure's face looked irritated. "Must you ask all these questions, sweet? I would have had to."

"Why don't you just tell them." It was more a statement than a question.

"I must portray myself as having no weakness, weakness is human, so I must be inhuman. Inhuman people do _not_ love."

Senna looked ready to kill him and cry at the same time. "This is love? I survive better on hatred."

He leaned closer and kissed her neck. "We all do, sweet." He whispered, between kisses. "Love isn't about survival, hatred is all about it."

"You're always one extreme or the other." Senna pouted.

"Better to be dead than simply average."

"Is that so?" He turned to her, his wide-set eyes blazing.

"Mediocrity is the scourge of mankind."

---  
|| _Celeste's Potions Room..._

Harry left Hermione in her room and slipped away. He was wearing the mercurile invisibility cloak that his father had given him and rubber shoes. He opened the door to the potions room easily. It was typical of Celeste to be so naive about guarding such a precious secret.

Still, it made his task easier.

A large hammered bronze cauldron was simmering above a bed-sized furnace. A glass tube channeled the mixture into a corked barrel. Without magic, Harry eased the cork out of the barrel and placed a large quartz crystal vial under the opening. A heavy goldish-red mixture which sparkled green slopped gently into the vial. Harry quickly stoppered the barrel.

He straightened. He had come this far. He needed to make the choice. With a single hesitation, he decided.

He tilted the vial at an obtuse angle and watched the contents spill out drop by tiny drop. Three swallows left...two swallows...one and a half...one...

With one decisive motion he lifted the vial to his lips and swallowed the contents.

Harry Potter would forever be- The Boy Who Lived.

---  
|| _The Strategy Room, dark and quiet..._

Ron skipped up the stairs and collapsed onto his chair. The pawns on the battleboard were glowing faintly, just enough to remind you they were there. He had not shown the Vampire's bite to Chaos, but had cleaned it out himself, using garlic-water.

Ron nearly laughed at himself. Honestly, _garlic-water_! That was one of the things Wizards had picked up from Muggles. The lore about the stake to the heart was true, well, tp a point. A wood stake would do fine, but a metal or crystal stake would kill the vampire just as dead. And the issue of the Cross, Vampire's never were afraid of it because they were always atheists.

_I'll be avoiding ladders and black cats next!_ Ron muttered.

He unfastened his robes and pulled off his white t-shirt. The double bite looked inflamed and vicous. Surprisingly, it did not hurt. As he craned his neck to inspect the wound his flesh suddenly started to shiver. The area around the bite turned white with a hint of pale red. As he watched, the patch of white started to grow and cover his whole arm.

Before he knew it, it was over his torso, crawling onto his neck and down his legs. As it reached his face he could feel his jaw congeal and then spread to make a completely different visage.His bouncy hair fell flat accross his face in large, sharply curved locks. It felt like little pinpricks darting over his body. He could feel his innards shifting and as it reached his brain, it was like a damp cloth was placed over his eyes. His human thoughts were pushed far back and a more primal, predatory mindset took over.

He could think only in the most basic terms. The room was fuzzy, and the colours dull. Anything which was warm looked more vivid, a heat sensing device.

_-Hunger-_ Ron's mind yelled, and underneath that thought was _-Prey-Attack-Eat-_. Like an endless stuck record. _-Prey-Attack-Eat-Prey-Attack-Eat_.

Ron looked down at himself and with the last shreds of humanity within him managed to eke out a thought. "Slytherin be cursed- I've become a vampire..."

---  
---


	16. Orbis et Gravidas

**Harry Potter & the Trident's Curse**

---

_Thrice toss these oaken ashes in the air  
Thrice sit thou mute in this enchanted chair;  
Then thrice three times tie up this true love's knot,  
And murmur soft: 'She will, or she will not.'_

Go burn these poisonous weeds in yon blue fire,  
These screech-owl's feathers and this prickling briar,  
This cypress gathered at a dead man's grave,  
That all they fears and cares an end may have.

Then come you fairies, dance with me a round;  
Melt her hard heart with your melodious sound.  
In vain are all these charms I can devise;  
She hath the art to break them with her eyes. 

|Love charms-Thomas Campion|

---

**Part 16-**Orbis et Gravidas

_The Night Owl, bar and restaurant..._

The Night Owl was a temporary outpost managed by the owners of the Three Broomsticks. It was right inside the cavernous halls of Draco's section and was lit by a large but dim red lamp with additional candles hanging from the ceiling.

It was a notorious pick-up bar, and anyone there was considered fair game. It was the spot where the large numbers of single men and women congregated to have some fun.

Padma hunched over her large glass of Gin and Tonic Water, her eyes bleary. It was obviously not her first glass. She looked down at the plain engagement ring she was wearing. It was burnished gold, with the Weasley family motif emblazoned on it. Inside was the inscription 'Promise of Honour'.

Ron was big on honour.

Padma watched the salty teardrop fall into the drink dispassionately. Her life felt in ruins. Ron had come to her at daybreak, before the start of the battle and showed her his puncture wounds. He had told her what he was.

A vampire.

She felt sick to her stomach, he was not human any more. Padma had always been slightly bigoted about werewolves, giants and vampires. Now her fiance was one of- them. She shivered. His touch had been so desperate and she had just turned away.

"Hallo there, why so low?" A short, twenty year old slid into the chair beside her. He was handsome, with dark gold-brown hair and rugged charm. "I'm Daniel Booth."

Padma felt a spark of interest. "Michael Booth's son?" She referred to the American Minister of Magic.

Daniel chuckled. "The one and only."

"Padma Patil." Daniel's eyebrows lifted.

"Vidya's daughter, right?" Padma flinched and nodded. "She's doing a great job with the school. We met your aunt, Vina, after the Meet of Mages. So, what're you doing her al-" He caught sight of her engagement ring and stopped.

Padma saw his glance and, with a guilty twang, slipped the ring off. "Breaking up with my fiance." She said, matter of factly.

She tossed the ring into the glass of clear gin and watched it sink to the bottom with slight trepidation. Daniel seemed unfazed. "I'm sorry." He said, not sounding at all so.

Padma bit her lip and sighed deeply. Daniel gently placed two fingers over her open lips. "You know, the ancient Romans believed that when you sighed, part of your soul escapes..."

Padma felt his gentle eyes embrace her and she smiled. "It doesn't seem like I have much left..."

"Well then- I guess I'd better give you some of mine..." He bent lower and tilted her face upwards. As he kissed her, Padma felt her back stiffen, but she willed it to relax.

_It's over, vampire..._

---  
|| _Recording Centre, Coalition Horseshoe..._

The band Violet Fire finished their last song and radio transmission was cut. The Lead singer, Violet Farann pushed back her dyed metallic purple hair in anger. She tugged savagely at her delicate black voile and lace minidress, almost rending the fragile beadwork. They had come here to fight for WizardKind, not put up the entertainment. Instead, their ambitious, unscrupulous manager, Tommy Gardner, had fixed a show for them.

"Damn Gardner. May his spells misfire!"

"Vio, r'lax, m'girl." Blaze McAllistair, guitarist, said in his deep bass. He had a faintly scottish accent and was prone to swallowing vowels. He zipped up his expensive, custom-made magically enhanced guitar and slung it over his shoulder. The polished leather covercase contrasted oddly with his torn baggy jeans and black t-shirt with the motto, 'And I should care..._why_?' emblazoned in sprawly red handwriting on the front.

"Yes, Vi, I straightened Tommy out, remember?" Darrel Farann, drums, the complete opposite of Darrel, intoned. He had a perfect, succinct British accent which went with his appearance. Unlike Blaze's carefully frosted spikes, his hair was brushed back suavely, but a few locks fell in unruly twists accross his forehead. He wore champagne coloured trousers with a white buttoned shirt and navy cricket sweater over it with dark coloured stylish shoes. The shirt was slightly scruffy, giving him the perfect preppie look.

Violet glanced at them and grinned. "Ah, so you told him you didn't need dates for the party tonight, then?"

Blaze crossed his arms and Darrel pursed his lips. Violet laughed mockingly. "So you two are going to get two beautiful, sweet dates who can dance in-" She consulted her watch. "Three hours? This I'd like to see."She slung her backpack over her shoulder and walked out with quick, measured strides. Blaze and Darrel followed, disgruntled. They rounded the corner, almost running to catch up with Violet. _Crash!_

"Ow, look where the hell you're going!" Ginny Weasley brushed herself off as Darrel helped her up. She looked up at the helping hand and her eyes widened. "Hey, aren't you the drummer of Violet Fire?"

Darrel semi-smiled and then scowled. "Yeah. I'm Darrel Farann." He glanced at Blaze. "This is Blaze McAllistair, he's on the guitar." Ginny held out her hand.

"I'm Ginny Weasley, and this is my friend, Celeste LaSeule." Blaze grinned at Celeste and glanced quickly at Darrel.

"Hey, look, as Dar's apol'gy for knocking y'over, c'n we invit'ya to party tonight?" Blaze asked.

Celeste looked confused. "There's a party tonight?"

"Yah, y'know Countess Czyren, right? Well, she got married and they nev'r had a bash- so they're d'ing it now." He replied. "It's a s'rprise, invitation only."

Darrel nodded. "Yes, most of the invitees are ghosts...just twenty or so real people." He grinned. "She married Draco Malfoy- Lucius Malfoy's son. Do you know him? Stuck up little bugger. Ah well, at least those dead armies of hers are on our side now. I heard Malfoy changed, but how can any man change so much, eh?"

Celeste grimaced. "How indeed..." She whispered. 

---  
|| _The Tome of the Trident_

**The Ascension**

The Ascension is when the chosen 'Contenders' for the Trident's role are taken from the mortal plane for the 'Test of the Trident'. Not much is known about this test or the Ascension, as the only witnesses are the Contenders or the Trident themselves, who are sworn to a vow of secrecy. Rumour has it that the test is more of character and moral fibre than actual physical or mental endurance.

After the Test, the Chosen Three are submitted to a secret Ritual, after which the old Trident and the new are bound in a spell. The Chosen Three are then returned to the Mortal Plane- they will take over from the Trident after their deaths or after they pass 100 years of life. Contenders who do not pass the Tests are killed to protect the secret.

The Ascension causes many glitches in the mortal world. There is increased potential for Emotional output, and there is a general increased sensitivity of the race. This is _only_ experienced by WizardKind, and is a manifestation of their collective subconscious knowledge of the great event.

Abnormal numbers of births, deaths and pregnancies occur as WizardKind fortiefies itself against possible destruction and rearrangement of Reality.

Love is a concept supposedly extremely affected by the Ascension, causing imbalance in hormonal levels. These effects are heightened if the mortal plane is under any kind of undue tension or duress.

Other myths about the Ascension include....

---  
|| _The Party Hall, Coalition Horseshoe..._

Draco rubbed his gold wedding band thoughtfully as he waited for the last of the guests to appear. He brushed off his black Gucci robes, careful to avoid the glittering spangles on the artfully ripped cuffs and hem. His crystal staff and sword both hung at his side. He recognised the guitarist of Violet Fire and walked forward a few steps.

"Welcome, the guests are right thr-" The words died on his lips as he saw Celeste on his arm. "Celeste."

"Draco." She nodded graciously, but coldly. He hadn't told her the true story, and she-like the others, believed him to be a fickle-natured coward.

Within a second he recovered his composure. "The party is right through there. I will be there shortly. Hello Ginny, Darrel..."

As they walked into the plush hall, Draco placed a clammy hand on his forehead and then brushed his platinum forelocks back. He heard footsteps and turned. "Potter...what the hell are you doing here?" He asked, weakly. "That fool- that woman- didn't invite you, did she?"

Harry smiled as he jogged up the last few stairs and brushed the water of his coat. "Nah. Celeste told us. Don't worry, Parthenope didn't invite any of your friends."

"Good. She told me about this party just in the afternoon." Fleur was right behind him. "Ah, so, broken up with Cho Chang then, are we? Didn't know you had it in you." Draco smiled mockingly. "Come on in, there's a sodding storm outside."

"Ah, no, she broke up with me this-" Harry suddenly gasped and his eyes rolled back. He clutched his scar and fell to his knees.

"Slytherin's Chamber, Potter- what the hell?" Draco pulled him to his feet. Harry pushed him away and took a few steps back.

"It's _you_ Draco." He said, with the air of someone who had suspected it for some time. "At first I thought I was just imagining the pain in my scar when you're around. But it's real- and it's worse now." Harry sounded neither accusing nor condoning.

"Look, Potter, that can't be. Riddle gave you the scar. It isn't a damn Seriously-Evil-Avoid-At-All-Costs Dark Wizard Detector, you know." He snapped. "It only works with Voldemort."

"I don't know that. I've never come into contact with another Dark Wizard." Draco flinched at his indentification as a Dark Wizard. "And this pain is worse that with Voldemort." Harry and Draco were nose to nose, almost ready to fistfight.

Fleur cleared her throat. "Stop eet, boys. Zair is too much testosterone in zis room. It ees just possible zat anyone wiz ze kind of powair You-Know-'Oo 'as- ze dark Sorcerie- can trigger zis pain. Are you okay, _mon cher?_?"

Draco grinned devilishly as Fleur cooed and patted Harry's head. . "That's one up for oestrogen, eh, Potter? Let's go right in- I'll keep a couple of steps behind you."

"Dr_ac_o, there you are darling!" Parry enveloped him in her arms. Her large onyx-coloured feather boa and the feather hems on her dress were distinctly uncomfortable against his skin. She pulled him into the middle of the room and smiled around. His expression was so distasteful that she elbowed him in the ribs. "We have a deal, loverboy. I wanted a husband, not a statue."

She turned towards the others assembled. Her beautiful voice echoed in the hall and each of her silences was punctuated by the stacatto sound of raindrops. "_Sonorous_. Welcome, everyone. As you all know, this gathering is to celebrate my rather sudden marriage to Draco Malfoy. But- I also have another announcement to make."

Parthenope coloured slightly and a smug smile played on her lips. "I-um...I'm- pregnant."

---  
|| _Hospital area..._

Chaos passed between the pristine white beds with gently sleeping people upon them. The sounds of their pain-induced screaming had ben too much for her, so she had convinced Hermione to do a Sleep Charm on them.

"Are you okay?" Hermione seized Chaos' arm as she stumbled and let go immediately. There was still a crackle of power when anyone touched her skin.

One by one, Chaos touched the heads of the patients. It took hardly a few minutes for her to finish the whole ward. She glanced at Hermione, who was holding her right arm to her chest. "Could you help me with this?" She showed Chaos the sword slash she had received at the previous battle.

"Sure." She replied, touching her forehead. Instantly, Hermione's body gave a convulsive jerk. "Oh Weatherstaff's grave- she's a Mensamage." Chaos tried to pull her fingers from Hermione's forehead. They seemed stuck on her forehead the same way they would if she had touched a high-tension electrical wire.

With one last struggle, Chaos sighed. She let Hermione invade her mind, praying to the great Arlena Weatherstaff that Hermione's mind would be safe. She cursed herself for forgetting that Healers could not perform their role upon MensaMagi, as their mind was too complex and would fracture even the most intelligent MensaMage.

Hermione could feel herself entering Chaos mind. Every memory, every touch was at her fingertips. The power of it seared her mind but she could not stop- like the moth irrestistably drawn towards the fatal flame and consumed in it's very beauty.

_A girl of around thirteen or fourteen with dark, brooding black eyes laughed. An easy, carefree sound- a boy with dark brown hair leaned closer. "Beth..." He whispered, as his lips touched hers._

A sudden spark, Hermione could almost feel it. Beth pushed the boy away and screamed- a shrill disbelieving timbre. "Carl? Oh, God..." She backed into the wall. He was lying face down on the floor, gasping for breath and clawing at her. His body convulsed with muscle spasms.

Her father pushed open the Salon door. "Elizabeth Margot Casterleigh! What in Heaven's name did you do to him?!" A short man with hard but even features and a balding scalp bent over the prone figure. "Agnes!" He yelled to the maid. "Call 911!" He turned to her, his eyes sad and heavy.

Elizabeth shrunk further against the doorway, willing herself to merge with the expensive wood. The air around her sparked."Sir- Father, I'm sorry- I didn't mean to..."

Her father strode over, brought his hand back and slapped her right cheek hard. With a yowl of surprise at the pain of touching her skin, he clutched his hand to his chest. Elizabeth glanced fearfully into his wizened face. Surprisingly, there was only resignation in his features. "Elizabeth, I always knew you were abnormal...from the day you were born. Even then- you had the power to kill- even while you were being born. Why can't you just be normal?"

Her Father pulled out a cellphone from his suit pocket. He opened the saved numbers and chose one with obvious distaste. "Hello? This is Sir Roger Casterleigh- Dumbledore told me to contact you if I needed to pass a message to him. Yes- tell him- tell him to come and take her as soon as possible. Stress that please- as soon as possible. Thankyou." He clicked off and slid the phone back into his pocket.

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth, you cannot remain at Casterleigh Hall any longer. You remember that odd old man that you liked? Albus Dumbledore- he came and talked to me when you were born and when you were three. This Albus Dumbledore will take you to a place where there are others like you- like your mother- _witches_." He seemed lost in reminiscence. Elizabeth seemed too terrified to even react to the news. He glanced at her, a sheen to his eyes. "I'm sorry Elizabeth."

She glanced up and said in a timid voice, "Why, Father? Why must I go?"

He sighed. "You just cause too much chaos."

---  
|| _Draco's chambers, later that night..._

Tears ran down Parthenope Czyren's visage. The tears did not seem of sadness, but of surprise and most probably- fury. Draco turned on her, his jaw clenched and his long fingers extended stiffly at his side.

"You engineered this all, didn't you?" His eyes were glazed.

"Draco, please- listen I didn't-"

"You conniving, manipulating, lying little bitch..." The words seemed all the more insulting from his cold, unimpassioned face. "You couldn't have gotten...the way you are unless you planned it...I've only been with you-" He stopped.

"Draco, listen- I didn't plan it...I wouldn't do such a thing. It's my- it's _our_ baby, Draco- how could I? Please- trust me." Draco's eyes crinkled into a mocking glare.

"Trust _you_? Trust you, Countess Czyren? Please- excuse my derisive laughter. It's just it seems so ironic that you are asking me to trust you. Do you remember what you said to me at Hogwarts- the day you proposed?" His steel eyes bored into her own, searing them with his glance. "Why? Why did you do this to me..."

Parthenope's chest heaved. "Draco- I thought you'd be happy...a child- _your_ child..."

"Parthenope, Parthenope, Parthenope..." He shook his head. "It's not the child that I abhor. It's just knowing that it's _yours_."

Parry's shoulders slumped, she shrunk into herself as if she were an inflatable doll and his words had punctured her. Her mouth trembled. "You- hate me, then?"

"No." A faint gleam appeared in her eyes. "I loathe you- I detest you...and I loathe and detest you all the more for the fact that you aren't even worth my hatred. May your Friday the Thirteenth be eternal!" He uttered the most maligning, horrifying curse in the Wizarding World. He had wished that Friday the Thirteenth, a day on which no magic could be performed and any magic rebounded with terrible effects upon it's doer, would happen every day for her life.

It was not a true curse, in the sense that it would not come true, but it was the most insulting thing a Wizard could possibly say.

"You won't hate our child...you won't..." The sentence structure was of a statement but the tone was abject, horrified pleading.

"I hate you more for the child, Parry. How can I love the baby when I know it's _yours_- that it's not Hermiones'. It is a child begot of sin, Parry. I hate you for making me not love my own child."

Parry took a few steps back, and with a solitary backward glance fled down the hallway and into the omenous, stormy night.

---  
|| _Hospital Area..._

Chaos saw Hermione's body tense, perspiration dotted her frowning face. She tugged uselessly at her fingers- her body felt heavy and swollen. A thin film had descended over her vision making her actions feel clumsy and inept.

_I've got to get her off...she'll be driven insane..._ She thought dully. A minute passed and she descended into a semi-comatose state.

Suddenly, she felt a chill- a creeping, evil kind of chill. One which isn't caused by cold. The mist in front of her eyes thinned and her mind slowly cleared. She felt herself fall backwards, no more attached to Hermione- at the same time she sensed cold flesh on her arms.

The fingers immediately loosened their grip, Chaos looked up and saw a tall figure with a tear-streaked but strong face. Chaos felt an odd sensation- a liberation from the dull pain of the wounded. Her skin felt normal. Hermione gave a long drawn out moan.

The figure pulled Chaos up and she felt stabbing pains wherever she touched her. "Healer." Parthenope Czyren mumbled.

"You're a necromancer- you drained my power, didn't you? Temporarily of course." Chaos realised- she studied Parry's features for a second. "You're Draco's wife, aren't you?"

Parry's lips twisted to a bitter grimace. "Theoretically." She said. "I don't have time for small talk, Healer. I need you to help me."

"Why should I help you?"

"Because that's what you do. You help." She touched her abdomen and squeezed her eyes shut for a second. "I need you to take my baby."

Chaos looked aghast. "And do what?"

With a wince, Parry indicated the prone figure on the floor. "Give it to the Granger Mudblood."

"Why?"

"I'm not all bad, you know. I _do_ have a certain affinity for the dead- but the living are so tiresome. But most of all, I've always wanted a child. More than you can even imagine...a child who would grow up in the best environment. He'd have his mothers love- and especially- his father's too." Parthenope brushed a tear from her face and gave Chaos a rueful grimace. "My father never loved me. I want my child to know that his parents love- or at least don't hate- each other. I thought I could make Draco love me...foolish...but we cherish our dreams. But if the child is borne of me he will never love it."

Chaos sat down on an empty bed. "But- what will you do?"

"I? I will- move on." Parry glanced at Hermione. "She's waking up..." She strode over quickly, and with almost professional detachment, kicked her squarely in the head. Hermione's body went lax and her face lolled to one side, unconscious. She glanced at Chaos. "Before she wakes up..."

"But-" Parry flicked out her wand and levelled it at the Healer.

"_Now_, Healer."

---  
|| _Alethias Pool of Truth..._

Parthenope stood at the edge Alethias' Pool in Erzmyn Szreil, shivering. Legend had it that those that drowned in its waters would be cleansed of all sin and cloaked with truth. Many had been desperate enough to rely on this slim chance- many had perished.

Parthenope lifted her midnight blue robes a few inches and pulled herself onto the large, jagged rock than overhung the pool. A small wooden sign was hung from a protrusion. In white, uneven chalky letters was written 'Suicide Point'. A fitting name for a dismal place.

She reached the top and gasped with surprise and- horror.

The veiw was beautiful, it seemed like the whole of Greenland lolled underneath due to the high positioning of Erzmyn Szreil. Endless oceans spread like turquoise silk sheets. Parthenope shivered- the beauty of the ocean seemed over-perfect...there was something decidedly odd about it.

_The TimeFreeze..._ She realised. _It's made everything- stop._ The silken expanse of the ocean had stopped mid-ripple. Not a cloud wafted accross the sky- not a seagull shrilled angry defiance.

Everything just stopped.

Parthenope followed the line of the sky, the area of the TimeFreeze was starkly visible. Inside, it was a tempest-tossed squalor of reddish tinged purple and outside a gentle cyan. Parthenope leaned over and peered into the azure blue water and supressed her hydrophobia. She had always hated still waters- she had never learned to swim. One hand rested on her stomach. The Healer had transferred the beginnings of life already. She felt empty.

The rain, now just a drizzle, beat down on the smooth waters. Slowly, almost ritualistically, Parthenope peeled off her robes, revealing a simple black bodysuit. She set her jangly, large earrings down on the hard rock surface beside her blue shoes. She kept her feet planted firmly on the edge of the precipice and leaned over in slow motion.

She laughed mirthlessly. _I never thought I would be one for selfless acts._ She thought. _I am coming, my minions..._

With one graceful movement, she pushed herself off the ledge and sliced through the water. Her very existence was swallowed up- a single ripple and complete stillness.

Not a wave broke, not a cloud stirred- the rain beat down on the smooth waters.

---

---


	17. Corrections

**Harry Potter & the Trident's Curse**

---

_The guy who put his hands on you  
Has got nothing to do with me  
And the bruises that you feel will heal  
And I hope you'll come around  
We're missing you  
You used to speak so easy  
Now you're afraid to talk to me  
It's like walking with the wounded  
Carrying that weight way too far  
The concrete pulled you down so hard  
Out there with the wounded  
Missing you  
_

|Wounded-Third Eye Blind|

---

**Part 17:** Corrections

_Draco's Chambers..._

Draco paced the persian silk carpets and glanced at his emerald studded platinum watch. Ten minutes had passed- and he was beginning to get worried. He did not love Parthenope, far from it, but she was his wife and he had a certain sense of duty toward her. Besides, she was carrying his child. Loath as he was to admit it, they had made a deal- and the Malfoy in him forced him to honour it.

People assumed that the Malfoy family had no honour. This was untrue- any aristocratic family had honour...just a different kind. The Malfoys believed in duty and they had their own brand of honour.

With a disgusted sigh, he threw on his grey-silver cloak and strode into the rain. "_Impervius_." He muttered, making the cloak waterproof.

He headed in the general direction that Parry had been going in. It was towards Dumbledore's section. _What is that crazy wench doing in here?_ He wondered, ascending the stairway.

"Draco...wait!" A feminine voice called from behind him. He turned, staff gripped tightly in one hand. "You have to come with me."

"Chaos- why? Have you seen Parthenope?" He looked suspiciously at her worried face and nervous fingers.

She clenched her lips, her face devoid of any other emotion. "Please- just come..." She turned and fled down the hallway, the sound of her heavy boots echoing in the hallway. Draco walked in to the hospital area just in time to see Chaos draw a blanket over Hermione's body. Draco stopped and took a step back. He glanced quizzically at Chaos.

"Draco, I need you to listen very carefully and be very calm." She said, slowly, indicating a low stool for him to sit upon. "Parthenope has done something very selfless...especially for a mother. Draco, she's- she's given her baby to Hermione." A muscle in Draco's temple twitched and his fingers clenched the chair. "She told me that she wanted her child to know that both it's parents loved it _and_ each other. Draco- Parthenope didn't want her child to know that it's not yours and Hermiones'."

Draco nodded dumbly, his mind anaesthetised with shock. "Does she- know?" Chaos looked at the floor and, almost imperceptibly, shook her head. "Magic Undone, Healer- what in Wizardry is she going to say when she wakes up? How far along was Parry?"

"Three months."

"But Hermione- the woman still hates me."

"But without cause. Your wife told me the whole story."

"My wife- where is the little necromancer anyway?" Chaos fixed him with her eye.

"It really hurt her when you said you wouldn't love your own child because of her. She never thought you _hated_ her...she told me she's moving on. But...I can't feel her life-force any more..."

"Parthenope's dead?" His voice was strangled.

Chaos regarded him impassively, almost shrewdly. She glanced at Hermione. "Yes. But _she's_ not."

---  
|| _Outside Ron's room..._

Ron paced the room, his thoughts in disarray. Padma had returned his wedding ring the previous night, her eyes dim and ashamed. The night was cold, but his vampire eyes saw through the darkness. Ron reached into his pocket and lit a joint of weed.

Odd, how Wizardry shared it's vices with Muggles. Alcohol, marijuana, cocaine, heroin- but mostly ecstasy, were sold and used daily in the Wizarding World. He flicked away the match and inhaled deeply, waiting for the rush.

The world started to spin, colours blurring and melding into one- going out of focus. "Oh no..." Ron groaned, as pain shattered his mind. _Just my luck to have a bad trip the first time..._ He had just bought a few sticks from a shady looking dealer, short and rather nervous. He had given his name as Rilwamot.

He stumbled back inside and managed to crumple in a heap in front of his mirror. "Galatea?" He gasped. Immediately, she appeared.

"Hey Ronnie...are y'okay?" She asked, her voice genuinely concerned. Ron smiled, Galatea had told him how to transport the spell to summon her without Draco's knowing. He had read up a little on the subject and had made a few personality alterations.

"Bad trip-weed." Galatea looked at him curiously.

"Are y'sure, Ronnie- it doesn't look like a bad trip to me...I've seen a coupla those. I dunno 'bout this, Ronnie..." She said, her face twisting with concern. "It looks more like poisoning." Her eyes widened. "Who did you get the weed from?"

"Some guy..."

Her voice rose an octave higher. "What was his name?" She almost shrieked.

"Rilwamot..." Ron choked, his eyes fluttering. "But aren't vampires- immune to poison?"

"Ronnie, go to the Healer. Now."

"I can't...it feels like I'm- Petrified..." Galatea cursed.

"Ron, I needya to do somethin' for me...okay? Just get outcha wand, point at me and say Creare Persona...concentrate."

"_Creare Persona_." A jet of bluish light hit the mirror, and, instead of reflecting back, was absorbed by it. Galatea was bathed in a sapphire aura. The mirror cracked- Ron stared into the shards. No Galatea.

Someone tapped his shoulder and he turned. A beautiful girl of around seventeen with long black hair and grey-blue eyes snatched his wand from his fingers. "_Mobilicorpus_." She breathed, and moved Ron's body out of the room.

With long, easy strides she ran towards the Hospital Area- only the Healer could save him now. She burst in the door, Ron close behind, and stopped dead. Chaos and Draco were standing over Hermione's body, Draco had a look of the deepest shock etched on his face.

"Healer-" She cried. Both turned and Draco gagged.

"Oh bloody sodding _hell_." He moaned. "Has everyone gone fucking _mad_?"

Chaos already had her hands on Ron's forehead. "He's been poisoned- I think I can manage..."

She let her hands fall to her side and looked at Galatea. "It's lucky you brought him-it so quickly. Vampiric Poisoning is much harder to nullify than Humanoid."

"Weasley's a vampire?" Draco asked, weakly. His skin was looking quite pasty and for once, his suavity and poise were nonexistent. "Galatea?" The girl smiled and walked towards Draco slowly. With tentative motions, she bent closer and brushed his lips with hers. She drew away, a grin on her face. "I've always wanted to do that." She said, eyes shining. "Ronnie was dyin', Draco, I had to do _something_. So I told him to make me real."

Draco looked dumbstruck. "But, Tea, that's against Wizarding Law. We could be put in Azkab-" He stopped and gave a hoarse, low laugh. Galatea felt her flesh creep, it was so unlike Draco. "Azkaban-why should _I_ be afraid of Azkaban?" He chuckled, bordering on hysteria. "You know, nothing matters anymore. Nothing..." He seemed about to ask another question when Hermione moaned.

She blinked her eyes a few times and slowly propped herself up on an elbow, rubbing her head. Draco enveloped her in his arms, and she relaxed to his familiar embrace.

"Oh, Draco, it's only- _Draco!_" She yelled, fully awake. "What the bloody hell are you doing?"

With a practiced ease, she took his arm and twisted it backwards, bringing it over his head and into a chokehold. Draco stiffened, he had never been good at hand-to-hand combat. "Mia- you need to listen to me...Mia-"

Her grip relaxed as she saw Ron on the floor. She looked at Chaos, incredulous. "Ron's a-" Her voice lowered to a whisper. "Vampire?"

Draco slipped out of her loose fingers and brought her attention back to him. "Hermione, there are many things I have to tell you. Please just listen- even if you don't stay- just hear me out."

He took a deep breath and began...

---  
|| _Voldemort's Horseshoe..._

"Master, the job is done..." A squeaky voice stuttered. "I gave him the poisoned drug."

"You have served me well...it is good you are grateful for my bounty." Voldemort replied, thoughtfully. "We will kill all of Harry Potter's friends...and soon we will kill him too." Voldemort grimaced. "If only that necromancer had not brought the Mudblood back into the realm of the living." He cursed Parthenope under his breath. "Now go, _Wormtail_."

Senna Liebermann pushed open the large metal doors, and squeezed inside the stifling little room. Voldemort was already there, bending over a tiny prisoner. He turned at her arrival. "Just making sure our little friends are comfortable." He said.

Senna tried not to look into the blue eyes of the terrified child and the equally terrified man as Voldemort led her out. "Our plant in the Coalition Camp has given us some information." She said, her voice a whisper.

"Excellent, I knew that would pay off."

"The plant says the package will be delivered soon..." Voldemort's fiery eyes narrowed. "The necromancer is having a baby- the Sorceror's baby." Voldemort raised an eyebrow.

"The _Sorceror_?"

Senna crossed her arms. "That's what they're calling him. Truly, Voldemort- they place him with Salazar Slytherin...some even place him above him! He keeps his troops in strict command- already his evil is well known."

"But he is fighting with Dumbledore!" Voldemort spat.

Senneca appeared not to have heard him. "He is a normal teenager to his friends and family- but to everyone else he is a ruthless Dark Wizard. People already feel afraid to pronounce his name..." A grin tugged at the edges of her mouth. "And he's barely eighteen! Much before _you_, Vol-"

Voldemort raised his arm and, with stunning force, slapped her cheek. Red blood rushed to her face, outlining the shape of his spindly fingers. "Don't overstep the line, Senna. You are of use...but use is often outlived. It is better for you to stay within my good graces."

Without a word, Senna turned and stalked out of the corridors, slamming the door to her room. "Damn you!" She cried, to the closed door. "Why do you leave me hanging?" The door creaked open.

"Senna!" A girl of seventeenish called. "Are y- what's wrong?"

"Sylvoren- I thought you were on Dumbledore's side..." Senna ran her fingers through her spiked hair and gave her a smile. "I mean- being a Gryffindor and all..."

Sylvoren Trelawney returned the grin. "It makes no difference to me and, well, the Trelawneys have a tradition of siding with Evil." She gave a bitter laugh. "Sybil, my mum- she's working overtime, making prediction-propaganda for the Dark Lord." She edged closer to Senna.

"Why can't he ever admit a human emotion, Syl? Why does he pretend to love me but treat me like a house-elf?" Senna sighed, collapsing into Sylvoren's open arms. Sylvoren looked deep into Senna's piercing blue eyes.

"You'll always have me..." Sylvoren whispered, running her hand down Senna's back. "I'll never hurt you. You know I love you, Senna."

"I love you also, Syl.." Senna said, sincerely. "But- I love _him_, too..."

"That's just infatuation- it'll pass...and I will wait." Sylvoren sighed.

Senna gave herself over to Sylvoren's ministrations. Remembering their old passion, she found Sylvoren's lips. She shivered- partly from pleasure and partly from fear. Wizards were even more bigoted than Muggles when it came to issues like this.

If Voldemort found out...they'd both be dead for sure.

There was a price for love- any kind.

---  
|| _Hermione's Chambers..._

"Oh no you don't, Draco. Are you trying to tell me that technically- I'm _dead_?" Hermione's cheeks were a queer strawberry-grape colour. "That I'm alive because of-" She shuddered. "Dark Magic?"

Draco took her hand in his and nodded. Hermione's eyes narrowed, she took out her wand and turned it on him. "_Veritas_." She used the spell form of Veritaserum. It was an old spell, very hard to perform- Draco guessed she had found it in the book the Fae Queen had gifted to her. "Am I dead?"

"Yes." Draco's lip twitched, he didn't like being controlled.

"Do you love me?"

"Yes."

"Will you ever hurt me again- emotionally?"

His eyes closed. "Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I will have to. It's not my choice." Hermione gave a melancholy chuckle, tears welling up in her eyes.

"_Finite Incantatem_."

"Uh- Herm...do you remember I told you Parry killed herself-"

"Yes..."

Draco racked his brain, wondering whether to tell her about the baby. He gulped, an idea slowly forming in his mind. "Well, she wanted us to be together..."

Hermione looked away. "So- you've always loved me." She asked, an almost plaintive note in her voice.

"I'll _always_ love you." Draco stood up and offered her his hand. "Do you love me?"

"I do..." She said, taking his hand. He pulled her slightly.

"Come on..." He said, almost running.

"Where are we-"

"You'll see." He cut her off. They descended the steps to Celeste's dungeons. "Celeste!" He called, his voice echoing. "Cel-oh...sorry."

He stopped suddenly. Celeste and a dark haired boy with spiky hair came out of the shadows, holding hands. "Draco..." Her eyes widened. "Hermione?"

"I- _we_'ll explain later. Cel, I need a favour..." He indicated Blaze McAllistair. "Personal."

"Blaze...I'll catch up with you later, okay?" Celeste gave him a quick kiss before he left, glancing, puzzled, behind him. Celeste put her hands on her hips, a gesture which reminded Draco of his mother. "So talk."

"Cel, I don't have much time so I can't explain everything. Do you remember, a long time ago...when we just came here- I asked you to do something for me."

Celeste turned and unlocked a large cupboard, filled with all sorts of grotesque body parts and foul-smelling oils. She drew out a small silver box with tiny green gems glinting on it's engraved surface. Draco took it from her. With slow deliberateness, he dropped to one knee.

"When I married Parthenope..." He began, wincing. "We exchanged rings. I learned that those rings themselves mean nothing. Then I learned that marriage too, means nothing. I just want you to love me. I wanted to give you this...Celeste made this specially for me. This ring holds a part of my life within it." He opened the box.

Two wrought silver snakes curled about a large, shimmering emerald, encircling it- making it a ring. "Hermione, I love you. Will you love me forever?"

"I will." She said. He slid the ring onto her finger, the snakes pulled closer to enclasp her slim digit firmly. "I don't have anything to give you..."

Draco pulled something from out of his pocket. "You've already given me something. I am your Keeper of Life." He slipped a gold ring onto his finger. The craftsmanship was almost identical, except that two lions held the large ruby-stone in place.

She paled. "But- Draco...that means..." She stepped back. "You have to die..."

"I know. That's what I meant about having hurting you again."

"Draco...I can't do it- you know I can't..." He gently placed a finger on her lips.

"Shh...we can think about that later. There is still time."

---  
|| _Minerva McGonagall's rooms..._

A knock sounded at the door, it creaked open. "Minerva?"

She quickly lifted herself off the bed, and in an uncharacteristic fluster, smoothed her hair and patted down her robes. "Yes, come in, Severus. What is it?"

"Oh, nothing...I just wanted to- talk." He sat down comfortably. "Minerva..ever since- then...we've just been friends."

"Severus, we promised to never talk about that time again."

"That's because we were _ashamed_, Minerva. The Death Eater and Dumbledore's Second- how could they _ever_ fall in love? How could a teacher and an ex-student have an affair?" He spat.

McGonagall sat down heavily. "What? You...you said- _love_." She breathed.

"I loved you, Min. I never said it...but couldn't you tell? I deserted You-Know-Who for you, I followed Dumbledore's orders...hell, Minerva- I even took a job at Hogwarts!"

"You never told me."

"I _showed_ you. I thought you didn't love me back...and all these years I've waited and waited for something- a sign...anything from you. Nothing- we continued our charade of mutual apathy- or at most friendliness." He turned away. "You _are_ ashamed, aren't you?"

"I'm sorry, Severus. I never knew...everything's different now...but-"

"Please, Minerva...lets just start by being friends again? You were always the only person I confided in." His black eyes were sincere.

She held out her hand. "Yes, Severus. Friends. About before..Severus, I'm sorry but-"

He gave a resigned shrug. "The time has passed. I know. We can never be as- as we were."

---  
|| _The Night Owl, the next night..._

Padma Patil laughed at ease. She stretched her cramped muscles and ordered another drink for Daniel Booth and herself.

"Whoa, Paddy, you're knocking them down tonight!" He exclaimed. Padma gave him a wry grin before focussing her attention on her gin and tonic. 

"Well, we got massacred in battle today, didn't we?" She indicated the other patrons of the small bar. "You'd almost think nothing was happening- that we weren't in the middle of a MageWar. I can't believe that these people sitting here drinking and laughing are going to be fighting You-Know-Who's demons tomorrow..."

"That's the nature of War..."

"Well, it's dumb." She put a hand to her head. "Oh, I'm so pissed..."

"What? Why're you pissed?" Padma laughed.

"I forgot you're American..pissed also means drunk, Dan." Padma hunched over her barstool.

"Padma, hi!" Padma turned and connected with a pair of intelligent grey eyes.

"Hey Celeste." Padma held out her hand formally. Her gaze travelled to Celeste's companion, he was so familiar... "This is Daniel Booth, my- date."

"Hi Daniel. This is Bla-" Celeste remembered Blaze was incognito. "Blair, Blair Graves." Padma flashed him a wide, predatory smile as he shook her hand. 

"So, do you guys want to join us?"

"Uh- actually, I have to talk to Celeste for a while...thanks for the offer." Blaze replied, looping his arm around Celeste's waist and leading her off.

"Anytime!" Padma called, as they moved toward a more isolated table.

The large Wizard's Wireless crackled to life and started to blare out the Weird Sisters. It was one of their faster, louder numbers. Blaze could hardly hear himself think. He slipped into the booth with Celeste, chatting for a while.

"This place is getting way too loud." Celeste yelled, after ten minutes or so.

Blaze's eyes sparkled with supressed mischief laced with a seriousness. "Celie- what do you say we have some fun...we'll go back to my place."

Celeste seemed indecisive. "But..I don't know-"

"Hey, Celie, _carpe diem_...or _carpe noctum_ I should say. For tomorrow we may, literally, die..." Blaze offered her his hand.

Celeste gave him a flirty smile. "I guess you're right." She said, taking his hand and following him out of the Night Owl.

---  
|| _The Edge of the Battleground..._

Harry walked hand in hand with Fleur. He glanced at her face, it was uncharacteristically serious. "Fleur, what's wrong?"

"_Quoi_? Oh, nothing, Harry." She took her hand from his. "It's seemply- I must make a decision tonight."

"What kind of decision?"

"Oh, a very important one...one that will change my life. And the lives of others." She added as an afterthought.

"Can I help you in any way?"

Fleur turned, a hauntingly sad expression on her face. "Yes." She said, quietly. Her features suddenly hardened and became more avian- her fingers seemed to elongate and curve slightly.

She reminded Harry when the Veela had taken to their bird form. He felt a wave of fear and moved a step back. She looked truly menacing. Before he knew what was happening, she had her fingers around his neck.

Harry pulled at them to no avail. He hooked his leg around her own and pulled, bringing down his arms onto the small of her back at the same time. She crumpled to her knees. Recovering quickly, she grabbed his knees with her arms and tugged, causing Harry to fall onto his back. In a trice, she was straddling him. She ground her knee into his groin, putting pressure on his neck with her arm at the same time.

He gasped with pain. "Dammit, Fleur-what the hell-?" He choked. His eyes rolled back into his head and he drifted into hazy unconsciousness.

She took out her wand. "_Petrific Totalus_." She breathed, jumping off his prone form.

Her throat seized with a spasm and she doubled up, coughing blood. Veela were not really adapted to fighting. Her muscles ached, pain tore through her lower limbs. "_Mobilicorpus_." She said. "_Visionilian._" They flickered out of veiw, invisible.

Slowly, she trudged her way into Voldemort's Horseshoe...

She reversed the invisibility spell. The guard at the gate nodded twice at her. With deliberate steps, she went towards one of the VIP chambers. She knocked twice, waited for a beat, and knocked again three times. It was obviously a code, for a moment later, Senneca Liebermann opened the door. Her hair and robes were slightly dishevelled, she righted them quickly.

"I 'ave brought him. Petrified." Fleur set Harry down on Senna's bed, breathing hard. "Now please, I 'ave done as you asked..."

Senna did not reply, she turned to Sylvoren. "Tell Master we have Harry Potter. Quickly." She turned back to Fleur.

"Come." She said, simply, walking towards the dungeons she had visited earlier that day. She pushed open the metal doors. The child's eyes widened as she came in.

"_Fleur!_" The little child wrapped herself around Fleur's legs. "_Ma soeur! Tu arrive!_"

Fleur started to sob tears of joy. "Oh, Gabriele..yes, I 'ave come...I am sorry, little sister." She hugged her tightly for a few moments and then looked up. "Oh, Damien...I love you."

Her fiance enveloped her in his arms, holding her as if he would never let her go. "Fleur, I missed you...so much. I thought you'd never come back..."

"How could you think that? I love Gabriele and you more zan anytheeng in the world."

"Did you- bring Harry Potter here?"

Fleur nodded. "Yes- it was the only way...You-Know-'Oo would 'ave killed you if I 'ad not."

Senna opened the door wide. "You are free. I would advise staying within our HorseShoe...the Coalition won't exactly be thrilled about Potter's kidnapping."

Gabriele blinked in the light. She held Fleur's hand tightly. "Never leave me alone again, Fleurie. I was so scared.." She prattled, in French.

"I was scared too, Gabi...I was scared too..."

---  
|| _Dumbledore's room..._

Blood coated the white ceramic of the sink like slick oil. It slowly dripped into the base and flowed like a vortex into the drainage pipe. Albus Dumbledore turned away clutching his stomach. His head throbbed.

He looked out of the window and onto the macabre battle scene stretching to below. Bodies were piled in inhuman, careless heaps. A funeral pyre was lit below the piles each night as per the customs of Battle.

He felt a queer shiver and looked up. Fawkes was regarding him from his perch- his eyes bright. "It's time for me to get along, isn't it, Fawkes?"

The phoenix regarded him levelly. Dumbledore pulled the pensieve from his cupboard and glanced inside the shallow bowl.

A scene quickly formed, filled with vibrant colour and life. He was there, his hair the silver-streaked auburn of a few decades past. He was handing out diploma scrolls. The first up was a shortish, but still strong teenager with messy black hair and glasses. Following him was the Head Girl, with flowing reddish-brown hair and sparkling green eyes. A young man with a mischievous grin accepted it with a wink. A more serious looking student with weary eyes and patient smile accepted the scroll gratefully. A small runt of a boy, with darting eyes took the scroll timidly.

The scene swirled and changed. Dumbledore sighed, of all of his friends, how many remained alive? He looked down and his hands. _I am cursed._ He thought. _Whomever I touch dies...James, Lily, Sirius, Remus...my sweet Anna..._ He looked back into the water.

A woman with black curls and a sweet smile glanced at the door. "He's here...quickly, Albus." She pushed Albus Dumbledore into a cupboard with surprising strength. Annabel made a warning gesture. "Go, Albus- use the secret passageway! Let him take her- let him take the baby..." She hissed, sealing the door magically. "_Asonoria_." She made the cupboard soundproof.

"Annabel- no...he'll kill you!" She couldn't hear him.

Barely a moment later Voldemort's minions had broken the door down. Voldemort himself pointed his wand at the woman. "You have betrayed your Master's trust-_my_ trust, Annabel Liebermann."

"Master..." Anna fell to her knees and kissed his robes. "I do not understand- I would never betray you."

Voldemort kicked out and she fell back with a yelp of pain. "I know when you are lying, foolish girl." He smiled. "I know you are having an affair with Dumbledore..."

Annabel Liebermann remained silent.

"Where is your child? Your little spawn?" Her face whitened.

"Please- no...don't do anything to her...please, I beg of you!"

Voldemort regarded her with contempt. "_Avada Kedavra_." Her eyes widened and remained frozen in that expression. She fell stiffly to the floor. Albus tried to push the door open and shield his sweet child- his daughter.

The door was magically locked. Dumbledore could see Voldemort through the joint. He felt like screaming with frustration. He felt so helpless. Voldemort walked confidently into the baby's room and picked her up. "Now- what would be greater revenge?" He mused.

The girl screamed. "To bring you up as my daughter..." His smile thinned to a cruel line. "Or...to have you love me as a wife?"

The baby cried harder, kicking her little legs and scrunching up it's eyes. "I think it is only fair, Annabel, don't you? You loved Dumbledore, but your little daughter will love me. Have you chosen a name?" He conversed with the corpse. "No? Well...hm, how about Senna- yes, Senneca Liebermann..."

Tears wet Dumbledore's cheeks. Tears of impotent rage. He pushed, he clawed at the wooden door. "Stop!" He yelled. "No! Annabel...my poor little girl- no!" 

Voldemort strode out of the room and turned back to Annabel. "I must go and arrange training for my little betrothed- it wouldn't do if Dumbledore managed to take her away now, would it? Rest well, Annabel- you have paid the price for betrayal."

---  
|| _The Dungeons..._

Harry opened his eyes and glanced around groggily. His vision was blurred and his head throbbed horribly. He felt like a woodpecker had squirreled itself into his cranium and was mercilessly reducing his brain into grey mush.

He pulled himself up, rubbing his neck. He was in a small, dank cell with no visible opening. He reached into his robes for his wand- and to his utter surprise and delight it was there. "_Lumos!_" He muttered, illuminating the cell. _I should have just left it dark..._ He thought, peering around.

The floor was covered with a white amorphous powder that was surely once bone. Shackles hung from the walls and scrawlings covered every surface. _Voldemort must have used this place even before the War._ Harry's attention was drawn to those etched in blood.

"I am innocent..." He read out. His breathing came faster. "Magic Undone- Sirius!" He yelled, shifting on his seat. He jumped off of it with pain. A large glass shard now covered with blood lay on the stone. Harry picked it up- it looked like the lens of a pair of spectacles. "Remus..."

He started to inspect the walls more closely than before. His cheeks were wet with hot tears. He uncovered the journal of a man driven to insanity. 'He's at Hogwarts' was scribbled over and over again, side by side with 'I am innocent'. Scratch marks indicated that Remus had been in there at least periodically.

He found his name mentioned many times even among writings he didn't know. They disturbed him. 'The Boy Who Lived will deliver us'. He shuddered. _They make me out to be some kind of saint or something...I'm no different._ He bit his lip. _Yes- I am._ He realised.

_I am different._ He felt like a bubble within him had burst. For the first time he felt at peace. He could stop trying to fit in and stop pretending to be like everyone else. He could stop being ashamed of his uniqueness.

The ceiling suddenly started move, shrieking protest at the unwanted motion. Harry blinked his eyes a few times in the light. "_Petrific Totalus_." A cold voice said. "_Mobilicorpus_." Harry felt his body stiffen as he moved upwards. "Harry _Potter_. We meet once again." Voldemort smiled as if it were a chance happening.

Harry tried to move his lips but failed.

"And this time, Potter, I will finish what was started- oh...I have lost count. Seventeen, eighteen years ago?" He smiled. "You always were too trusting of your friends, weren't you? Who will save you now Potter? That weakling Malfoy? Your vampire Weasley? Your little MudBlood friend? Your dying Dumbledore?" Voldemort laughed mirthlessly. "Such irony isn't it? Everyone's too busy to help you."

"You won't be joining your parents too soon, Potter...I think I'll have a little fun with you first." Voldemort flicked out his wand and traced Harry's jawline with it. "_Apetrifica auralis._" He unPetrified Harry's mouth so he could talk.

"Potter, I want you to do me a favour..."

"Oh, I'll do anything- just name it." Harry said, sarcastically.

Voldemort leaned closer. "_Crucio_. Scream for me, Potter." He whispered, a twisted smile on his lips. "Scream."

---

---


	18. Aeternum Cease

**Harry Potter & the Trident's Curse**  
---  
_Life...is it's own reason  
_ |HPTC-Helaine WrathStorme|  
--- 

**Part 18** Aeternum Cease  
_Dumbledore's chambers..._

He was dying. Both figures in the room knew it. He didn't have to die- it was more of a conscious choice than an inevitable destiny. Albus Dumbledore believed that every person chose their own destiny.

"So, Tom, what did you want?" He asked, as he would have fifty years ago when Riddle was his student.

"You and I both know, Dumbledore, that you have made the choice to die." Riddle, on the other hand, spoke to Dumbledore as an adversary.

"Yes."

"A foolish choice. Those who are bonded with the Phoenix need not die."

"But I won't be dying altogether, Tom. You see, I've spent an eternity. Living, dying and being reborn in a endless cycle. Quite like Fawkes. I will be reborn."

"But after a tremendous waste of time! You will have to grow from a little babe yet again."

"The world is unready for eternity."

"I want you to die altogether." Dumbledore's eyebrow twitched.

"Why should I?" He asked, his voice still pleasant.

"Don't tell me you've forgotten about Senna- your precious little daughter." Fire blazed into Dumbledore's eyes.

"If you've done anything to my-"

"Relax- she's fine. Why would I hurt the woman who loves me?" Voldemort laughed, ridiculing Dumbledore with his measured words. "That's the supreme agony, isn't it? The fact that she loves _me_ and sees _you_ as the enemy."

"Did you merely come to gloat? I thought you wanted to say something important."

The red eyes narrowed to serpentine slits. "An exchange of relatives, my dear Dumbledore. Your daughter for mine."

Albus laughed, a steely glint in his blue eyes. "Why should I even want Senna back? She is only bonded to me by blood. She is your daughter by mind."

"See how parallel our situations are, Dumbledore? Don't pretend you don't care for her. I know you care for her because I care for Celeste."

"Celeste mightn't be your daughter."

Voldemort caressed his wand thoughtfully. "But then again, she might. She too, is only bonded me by blood- her mind is filled with your wiles."

"What's the use of having my daughter back if I can't be with her? See reason, Tom!"

Voldemort sighed exaggeratedly. "The girl and the Potter boy- I will give you _both_ for my daughter."

Dumbledore flinched slightly and crossed his arms. "I agree to those terms."

"Come, let us prepare the Finity ritual."

---  
|| _Draco's chambers, the next morning..._

Hermione stirred from her sleep. She felt arms around her body and pulled herself into a sitting position. "Draco..." She breathed, softly touching his pale hair. She smiled and slowly settled back down, trying not to wake him.

His eyelids flickered and opened, the grey orbs of his eye unfocused. They regarded her, uncomprehending, for a moment before expression seeped into them. "Good morning..." He smiled. "How are you feeling?"

"Good..."

He touched her cheek and drew her closer in a kiss. She could feel his left arm hooked around her waist, caressing the crook of her back. There was a tangible tension in the air. Hermione was unsure of how to act. Draco wondered if anything had changed...

"Everything's changed." Hermione said, simply.

Draco grimaced. "Her_mione_, you're not allowed to read thoughts."

She giggled a little. "What more opportune time?"

"Saucy little thing, aren't you?"

"You didn't seem to mind last night."

"Oh, so, that's how it is!" He laughed and suddenly stopped- consternation on his face. "But you're right...where do we go from here, Mia?"

"I don't know, Draco. You're the one with experience." She said, a trifle bitterly.

He narrowed his eyes. "You think I have experience being in love?" He demanded. 

"I'm sorry." She whispered, tucking a loose strand of his blond hair behind his ear. "But, Draco, were we ever going anywhere?"

He looked away. "I think we both knew it would end this way."

"Don't talk about the end now. We still have time." A frantic knock sounded at the door, followed by the sound of a person stumbling into a room. "What the hell?" Hermione drew the blankets around her frame.

Ron stood in front of the both of them, his eyes gleaming and skin pale. He didn't even register Draco and Hermione in bed together. "Harry- Harry's gone!"

"What?" Hermione shot up straight, her expression aghast. Her first reaction was surprise, but then sympathy for Ron. _He has to go through this all over again..._ She remembered. Molly Weasley had been kidnapped by Voldemort when Ron had been in sixth year. She could still remember his guilt-ridden face and weary eyes as if it were yesterday.

"Fleur and Harry- gone...someone- see them- go the Other Side." Draco was pulling on a pair of black silk trousers already. He stretched into a dark crimson sweater and ran his fingers through his hair once. Hermione used the sheets as a makeshift toga and walked into the bathroom. She didn't even pay heed to her reflection or the outfit she was wearing.

Draco looked handsome, but worn out. The strain of war was beginning to tell on him. He held Mia's hand as they walked into the hallway.

"Sorceror Valwracen..." Draco turned, his expression clouding at the sight of a Dementor.

"Reil, what is it?" His tones were clipped and cursory.

"We are satiated with souls, Sorceror." He bowed low. "It is necessary to dispose of them."

"Dispose-" Draco scrunched his eyes up. "Ah, Blacknight. You need to deposit your souls in Blacknight." He bit his lip and waved a hand. "Consider it done."

The Dementor bowed lower. "Thankyou, Master."

Hermione looked slightly sickened as she followed Ron. Within moments, they were outside Dumbledore's rooms. Ron knocked twice, shivering as the pale shafts of dawnlight pierced the clouds. His red eyes turned to vicious slits and his hands started to tremble.

Light touched his arm and he drew it away, yelping in pain- a cruel black scar remained where the light had been. His flesh looked charred.

"Are you- alright?" Hermione asked, trying not to be afraid of her friend.

"I-am...yes, alright." Ron was slowly learning to master his thoughts and speak as a sentient being.

"Dammit! Where the fuck is Dumbledore?" Draco cursed again and pulled out his staff. "_Alohomora_!" The doors flung wide open.

With a startled cheep, Fawkes burst out of the room. His feathers were dull and he emitted low, pained noises. Ron stumbled inside. "Professor! Pro-"

He stopped.

Hermione started to quiver. One shrill scream of disbelief was wrung from her lips before she collapsed onto the floor. Draco's lips twisted, a muscle went in his temple. "Slytherin's Grave..." He whispered. "This can't be."

Ron snapped, the intense emotion bringing out the beast within the man. He bared his teeth, salivating. Froth coated the corners of his lips. His eyes were wide, fear in their every movement. With an agitated snarl he pushed his way past Draco and into the fresh air.

A yowl of misery shred the stillness. The sun was completely up by now, Ron was coated in scalding sunlight. Draco rushed out, trying to pull him back. Ron fought, not understanding that Draco was trying to help him.

He tried to sink his teeth into the soft flesh and managed. A bite sustained for more than five seconds would turn a person into a vampire. The long fangs punctured the pale skin- a second later the vampire drew away, coughing up the blood sucked from the Sorceror's body.

He spat it out with every spasm, glaring at Draco. "Evil-poisoned blood." He choked out, crumpling to his knees. Draco inched closer and grabbed Ron's shirt, trying to drag him back into the relative safety of the room. The vampire resisted, using his claw-like nails to dig into the porcelain flesh. From far off, the dragon Alyewn bugled her distress, receiving pain from her mind-bonded.

Draco pushed him off and slunk away. "Dammit- Weasley, let me help you."

Ron screamed, a noise more chilling and more sustained that the whistling of a piccolo. As Draco closed the door with a resigned sigh, blackness consumed Ron's very flesh. He stopped twitching and stood upright for a complete moment before imploding in a flash of light. It was like the sun had burrowed into him and had consumed itself in a fiery suicide.

"I'm sorry Weasley." Draco said, before shutting the door completely. He was still in semi-shock. He stumbled back to the room.

The walls were splattered with blood. The red liquid formed complex elliptical patterns. Candles flickered, casting eerie shadows onto the wall. Incense thickened the air and black powder formed an oval in the centre of the room.

Albus Dumbledore levitated above it, his arms spread out and legs crossed over- suspended on an invisible cross. His chin was thrust upward at an impossible angle, eyes open and glassy. Blood dripped from punctures on his forehead, but no crown of thorns was visible. Slanting slashes bit deep into his skin, showing the whiteness of his bone underneath.

Draco had seen paintings of the Crucifixion, but he never thought he would see it himself. Dumbledore's white hair cascaded down his shoulders, his facial muscles were lax. He looked innocent- almost divine. Even death could not rob the great man of his dignity. Draco exhaled slowly.

"_Enervate._." He said, pulling Hermione into his arms. Her fingers twitched and her eyes slowly fluttered open.

"Draco- oh God...oh God- look..." Her face twisted into a mask of misery. "Dumbledore's...he's dead."

Draco nodded. "The Finity Ritual." He said, hollowly. "He must have been a demon."

"A...a _what_?"

"Demon."

---  
|| _Senneca's chambers..._

"No!" Senna screamed, pushing the man away. "That's not true!"

"Senna, my dearest, it _is_." Voldemort shook his head sadly. "I told you the whole story."

She took two steps away from him. "You killed my _mother_ and stole me from my father? You loved me because you wanted- _revenge_?"

Voldemort sighed. "Senna, darling- my sweet, it was like that in the beginning. And then I grew to truly love you."

He paused a second, waiting for the effect of his words- but to the Dark Lord's great surprise and chagrin she laughed. Senna Liebermann threw back her head and laughed. "_Love?_" She asked, finally. "You don't know the first thing about Love- don't even speak to me of it! You are killing me with your Love!"

"Now, Senna, sweet, let's not get hysterical."

"Did you put a spell on me to love you? Did you?"

Voldemort shrugged. "No." 

"You're lying!"

"Only at first- then you grew to love me!" He said, his voice frantic.

"You lying, conniving, traitorous bastard!" She spat, her clear blue eyes accusatory. She drew herself up to her full height. "MudBlood." She hissed menacingly, using the only term Voldemort was ashamed of. "MudBlood Filth!"

Voldemort's face went chalky grey. He gasped out quick breaths, his fingers twitching. "What did you call me?" He asked, his voice a whisper, reacting instinctively. His mind wasn't working- he pointed his wand straight at her and whispered two ill-begotten words. "_Avada Kedavra._"

Green light shot out of his wand, speeding toward Senna. She merely smiled, her eyes alight with the same blue fire that burned in Albus Dumbledores'. The light hit her full in the chest, she was pushed back with a gasp. The Dark Lord's eyes widened as the light reflected from her, heading for him.

"Oh God, no!" He yelled, his muggle past surfacing. He lifted an arm to try and shield himself from the blow but to no avail. The green light was absorbed into his body, and with a convulsive jerk Tom Marvolo Riddle fell down dead.

Senna pried the wand from his dead fingers. "My father _died_ to keep me alive. Just like Harry Potters' mother died to keep _him_ alive." She bent close to him, her fingers in his hair, knowing that the wisp of his spirit was probably in the room. "Remember that next time, fool."

Nearby the door, the thin stream of consciousness, all that was left of the Great Dark Lord, whimpered softly and floated out of the room.

---  
|| _Three hours later, in the Strategy room..._

Of course, the war was over. Both Dumbledore and Voldemort were, effectively, dead. Many of the Dark Lord's followers had slunk back into the Coalition HorseShoe, claiming that they had been under the Imperius Curse. It was just like when Voldemort had disappeared before. The Ministry of Magic, especially the Unspeakables, were going wild. Blacknight was now manacled in a barn next to Alyewn and the Dementors had rid themselves of the excess souls.

Senna Liebermann was being touted as the 'new Harry Potter', the Girl Who Lived. Her name was Senna Dumbledore now, though she had refused to drop Liebermann- proud of her mother. It was queer how like Harry's her own life was. After the TimeFreeze dissipated, she would be sent to live with her uncle Aberforth Dumbledore in Alaska for a few years. She wasn't particularly looking forward to it, having heard stories about his nocturnal habits all alone with the goats in the desolate mountain reaches.

Harry was standing at the head of the table, his expression grim. Ginny Weasley had her arm on his shoulder, her bright eyes dull and lifeless. Hermione was sobbing softly on Draco's shoulder. Senna was slumped on the table, reading some old letters Dumbledore had written to Anna, her mother. Celeste was sitting on Blaze's lap, tears running down her face, while Chaos had her arms folded and eyes narrowed. Padma was trying extremely hard not to look guilty and failing miserably. Sylvoren was eyeing Senna apprehensively.

"It's all over." Nobody responded. Harry's face contorted. "Didn't you fucking hear me? The war's over. We won."

"Oh three sodding cheers, Potter. Now can we go back down to the depths of misery or would you like us to pretend it's all okay for you." Draco hissed, sarcasm oozing out of him. "Magic's End, I can even smile if it'll make you feel better."

"Oh shut up, Draco, he's been through a lot." Padma snapped.

"Oh, and we bloody well haven't."

"Your best friend didn't die- your mentor didn't kill himself!" She yelled, standing up. Senna stood up simultaneously.

"My father didn't kill himself." She said, through gritted teeth. "Riddle killed him."

"Well I lost my only chance of having a father!" Celeste cried out. "Maybe he _was_ evil- but damn it, he might have been my father!"

"Stop it!" Chaos screamed shrilly. "I know we're all frustrated, but this isn't the time."

"Frustrated?" Hermione whispered. "That's the understatement of the millennium!"

Before anyone could say another word a hush descended on the room. A palpable, living silence, creeping in through the cracks in the doorway, filling the room slowly.

All of a sudden bright white light flashed in the room. It dimmed a little, receding into a swirling spiral portal. It looked like a vortex suspended in midair. Hermione gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as she remembered a passage from the Book of Ascension, given to her by Empress Azaelyste.

"The time has come." She said, simply, standing up.

Sylvoren laughed, standing up, her hair flying as she recited a prophecy.

"_When the Trident is replaced,_

All humanity will be embraced,

Pure light will descend from the skies,

Coating mortal, fool or wise.

Trident three must step willingly into,

The spiral portal they Ascend through,

There a test of truth awaits

Before they can pass through fire-gates."

Draco grinned, pulling Hermione's hand into his and motioning for Harry. "You heard what the lady said- let's go."

Before the words were out of his mouth, Harry Potter had pushed in front of him and leaped head first into the Portal. As the last of Draco and Hermione's body slipped through the interdimensional rift, the world was cloaked in pure white light.

---  
|| _The Plane of the Trident..._

Helaine Wrathstorme smiled as Harry Potter was pulled into the Trident's Plane. She had confined her consciousness in human form once more. Gravero had deemed it necessary. She smiled wanly, her blue eyes troubled as she extended a hand in greeting. Draco and Hermione arrived simultaneously. The portal remained open for a few seconds and then closed with a small pop.

"Welcome, contenders." She said, loudly. "Welcome to the Trident's Plane. I am Helaine WrathStorme..." She closed her eyes for a second and two blurry forms detached themselves from her and began to sharpen. "That-_he_ is Gravero Gryffindor and he is Sorceror Daemersgrale."

Harry looked bewildered, Draco was impassive and Hermione had the same rapt look on her face as when she explored the Egyptian pyramids during her third-year summer. Helaine smiled again, but the quality of it was strained.

"If you pass the tests ahead of you- you will assume the position of the Trident." She took a deep breath. "Allow me to explain- the Trident are a group of three Wizards, as you know. Every thirteen mortal aeons, the Ascension takes place, and if the contenders are worthy, the Trident is replaced. If not, they are killed. We have been the Trident for thirty-nine aeons."

Draco made an coughing noise in the back of his throat. "That's encouraging."

"It was not meant to be encouraging, Sorceror Valwracen. Be warned, those who fall from the Trident in just thirteen aeons are cast deep into the torturous pits of Remembrance." Helaine's astute gaze was weary with the troubles of all the world. "The Trident control the destiny of the World. Do not look so shocked, there _is_ free will- in fact, free will is how destiny is formed. You see, Time, in it's mortal form, runs only forwards. In the Trident's plane, time has no meaning- everything that will happen has already happened. That is the reason mortal time runs forward- to catch up with itself."

"But- that means that there must be an- End...a time when time catches up to itself." Hermione's lips trembled. "The End of everything...."

Helaine graced her with a rare and radiant smile. "Yes. At that moment, the Mortal plane will self-implode and Time will once more start again. Not much is known about the Genesii- for that is what they are called. Genesii. The Trident control destiny subconsciously, their minds have already been searched by the Book of Destiny, so Destiny knows the decisions The Trident will make when faced with a certain set of circumstances. Larger decisions, however, must be discussed and any interference with the Mortal Plane must be authorised by all Three members of the Trident. If the Trident are tardy with their decision, the fabric of Mortal Reality is stretched- reality becomes Threadbare, you may say." A deep gong sounded, vibrating the ground underneath their feet. "Face your daemons, contenders- the time has come. Luck be with you all."

Before any of the three could respond, the ground fell away beneath them and they fell into three separate areas of testing. Above, Helaine Wrathstorme sighed.

"Good luck, contenders." She whispered, crystal tears wending down her features. "Succeed so that we may die at last." ---  
|| _Draco's test..._

Draco gathered himself to his feet, looking around cautiously. Darkness billowed all around him like a congealing cloak. For a few seconds, nothing happened- the stillness was unbroken except for his own quick gulps of breath.

"Draco."

The pale blond boy whirled around, his grey eyes meeting with electric blue. For a second, he faltered, not knowing what to say. "F-Father?" He swallowed and brushed his hair back, confidence returning to him as he clutched the wand in his hand. "Father."

"Yes, Draco. I am glad you accept that. I _am_ your father and however much you may dislike or abhor this- it is a fact. I will always be your father." The voice was cold, it matched perfectly with Lucius Malfoy's face.

"You watched _him_ kill my mother- you watched him kill Narcissa." Draco said, his tone once more imbued with emotion. "How dare you call yourself my father?"

"She was a traitor, Draco. Narcia Havisham. Spy." He hissed, his eyes narrowing. "But I- loved- her...I loved her so..." Lucius' voice broke, but he continued nonetheless. "But that is what a true Malfoy would do- whatever the emotional costs, the Higher Purpose must be achieved! You are a failure, Draco. You have failed the Malfoy family." Draco's eyes were afraid now, terrified. They darted around, looking for an avenue of escape.

"No..." He said, faintly.

"Oh but you are! You love a MudBlood, you consort with Harry Potter, you joined with that old fool Dumbledore in the war. You have disgraced the name of Malfoy!"

Draco raised himself to his feet. "I have not! _You_, you and all the others like you- _they_ have disgraced the Malfoy lineage! We were not meant to be servile simperers, forever at some others' beck and call! We are not cowards- we uphold our _honour_, father. You have no honour." His voice was filled with pure, destroying scorn. Draco's staff was glowing dangerously, he looked ready to murder Lucius. "You are unfit to be a Malfoy!"

A heartbeat passed, and Lucius Malfoy laughed. "Perhaps, Draco. Will you kill me, then? I am your father, be always aware of this fact. Here I am now- kill me. I watched Narcia being murdered by my master- kill me." Draco's eyes filled with murder as he raised his wand, light crackling all around it's tip. Lucius Malfoy laughed once more, an unsettling, unearthly laugh. "Kill me, Draco...you don't even have the courage!"

From the depths of his soul, he found strength. "No. I will let you live."

"I murdered your mother, I drove away your sister, I would kill you if my master commanded it." Lucius stepped closer. "I killed your mother! You are not even man enough to kill me Draco- you weak, abhorrent foundling!"

"Live, Lucius- I will not become like you. I have the courage _not_ to kill you. I loathe you, I detest you- and that is why I shall let you live." Draco said, and the world melted away around him.

---  
|| _Harry's test..._

The world around Harry was dark. Soft soil crunched beneath his bare feet, he groped for his wand in his pockets but it was not to be found. Harry stumbled ahead, his arms outstretched to meet any obstacles in his path.

With a soft _thwap_ his knees came into contact with cold, hard stone. "What the-?"

Slowly, his eyes focussed enough to make out a dark horseshoe shaped object jutting side-by-side from the ground. He ran his fingers over the lettering. "James Amadeus Potter and Lily Franklin Potter- loving wife and husband." Harry stumbled backwards, his eyes bleary with saline tears. 

A cold hand touched his shoulder and he spun around, pulling the sword from his belt in a fluid movement. The steel clattered to the floor as the Boy Who Lived stood, gaping and speechless at the person in front of him. "_Mum?_ Mum!"

"Oh, Harry..." Her voice was weighed down by sadness. Lily Potter stood, in all her beautiful glory, not a pale ghost but a living, breathing person. "Welcome."

"Welcome where?" He asked, his voice muffled from being buried in her shoulder.

Lily laughed, a low and fruity sound. "To the Afterlife, Harry darling- don't look quite so surprised, dear." Her words were comforting and her tone soothing.

Harry's brow furrowed and he took a few steps back. "I can't be _dead_!" He repeated, over and over. "I can't be!"

"That's what we all felt, Harry. You died saving the world from- Voldemort. You died bravely- James and I were _so_ proud of you." Harry's eyes lit up at the mention of his father's name. "That's right- James is waiting to see you. We all are- Sirius, Remus, Narcia, Dumbledore- we're all together now, son." Slowly, tentatively she slipped her arms around Harry's now broad shoulders, hugging him tightly. "We've missed you so!"

"I can't be dead."

"Look." She pointed to a smaller, less noticeable gravestone. Harry could read the gleaming lettering from where he stood. _Harrison James Potter- Gryffindor's Own_. "I'm sorry, Harry- but at least now you can be with us..."

"What about Hermione...and Draco and Azaelyste?" He murmured to himself. Lily's shoulders sagged and she began to cry softly, hardly making any sound. "Mum, what's wrong?" Harry asked, encircling the comparatively diminutive woman in his arms.

"I just thought you'd be-be- glad to see us after so long...we've watched you. Watched you grow up and become such a wonderful, brave man. They don't need you there an more. Hermione and Draco, they've got each other. And Azaelyste- she isn't _human_, Harry. And your friend Ron's here too, along with one of his brothers. Live happily here, Harry."

"They _need_ me- it's not my time to die. It can't be." Harry said, an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. "There has to be a way to go back _there_."

"There isn't." Lily seemed to be avoiding his eyes.

"Mum- you're not telling me something."

Lilly cried out in frustration, her eyes ineffably sad. "This _wasn't_ your time. You _can_ go back there. It's just- you'll never see us again. Even if you die- you'll be in a different realm." Lily held on to Harry's hand like it was a lifeline. "Harry- you'll never be with us. _Ever_. Just come with me and we can live together- a _family_- our family."

Lily let go of his arm and then held out her right hand. "Come." She said, simply. "Come home."

_Home. I want to go home..._ Harry Potter took his mother's hand, lifted it to his lips and kissed it. "Goodbye mum. I love you. Say goodbye to dad for me."

Tears ran down Lily Potter's face as her arms dropped to her side. "Goodbye Harrison. We are always proud."

Harry turned and was enveloped in a velvet black darkness.

---  
|| _The Plane of the Trident..._

Helaine WrathStorme smiled, the exhaustion clinging to her body like a mist had melted away. She watched as Harry, Draco and Hermione lifted themselves from the floor and dusted themselves off and was reminded painfully of her own test. "Congratulations." She said softly.

"You have all passed- with flying colours. Draco, you found strength within yourself to do the right thing. You were right- you _do_ have courage. Harry, you learned that love sometimes means letting go. You made the right decision- you were not tempted by personal gain."

"Was that- real?" Harry asked in a whisper.

"No. Do not concern yourself- none of the people in the Tests were real." Helaine turned to Hermione, regarding her with an almost maternal air. "And Hermione, you realised that you possess the ability for Unconditional Love." Helaine lifted her arms. "Henceforth, you may never speak of these tests, not amongst yourselves nor to others."

"What's- what's going to happen now?" Hermione asked.

"Have you ever wondered why we are called the Trident- not the Triad?" Helaine asked, still smiling. "It is because of this ritual."

Daemersgrale was behind them, holding a large gleaming metal Trident in his hand. One spoke was copper, interlaced with sapphire, another silver with emeralds embedded in it's surface and the last spoke was burnished gold with glittering rubies set into it's splendor. The hilt was a swirling mass of all three metals, like interwoven threads, making a seemingly neverending pattern.

"That is the Trident of Life. The three metals represent the three main components of life- Good, Evil and Intelligence- the hilt shows individual life. You must learn- we are all part of a pattern. Every choice we make, every destiny we conceive all fits within it. Every choice we could, would or should possibly make has already been made."

"Then what's the point- why all this _Life_?" Draco asked, his voice husky.

Helaine smiled once more, her even white teeth gleaming. "Life...is it's own reason."

Before any of them could react, Daemersgrale stabbed each of them once with cold, quick precision. Hermione held her stomach, the triple wound oozing crimson blood as she looked with shock on her face at the smiling countenance of Helaine. "What are you doing?"

Helaine did not reply, instead put her fingers on Hermione's wound, digging into the flesh till blood dripped over her hands. Daemersgrale and Gryffindor were doing the same to their heirs. Helaine stood, an ethereal wind blew her hair and robes back.

"_With this blood, we purchase freedom. With this blood we bind three new._" She yelled into the wind, marking her forehead with the red liquid. The Trident began to pulsate, throwing off a white light. "_Aeternum Cease._"

The three of the Trident stiffened- the winds increased to gales. With a crystalline shudder, the bodies of the Trident turned to sparkling dust and were borne away by the wind. All that remained was the glowing, bloodstained Trident, glowing feebly in the enclosing gloom.

---  
|| _The Mortal Plane..._

Darkness descended, the bright lights were gone. Hermione, Draco and Harry awoke simultaneously- each disbelieving of what they had experienced. White walls surrounded them, Hermione looked to one side and found herself connected to various magical monitoring devices. She shifted in her bed and tried to sit up, wincing from the pain that boiled in her stomach.

A prim nurse came into the room. "You're awake!" She exclaimed, pressing her SpellCom (Tm) InterPersonal Communicator bar on her shoulder. "Doctor Casterleigh. Our patients have woken up." The nurse tapped the bar again and busied herself fluffing up their pillows until the door creaked open.

Chaos walked in.

She wasn't exactly Chaos- her clothes were much different, she was now wearing a lab overcoat and surgeons gloves. Her demeanor seemed changed somehow, calmer and happier. "Thankyou Amanda. That will be all." She nodded authoritatively at the nurse, who walked out of the room without comment. Chaos smiled at the others, reaching for Draco's forehead to feel his life-force. "Welcome to St Mungo's."

"Chaos?" Harry asked, weakly. "That you under all that doctor-ness?"

"My name's Elizabeth. Lady Elizabeth Casterleigh, if we're going into titles. Father was nobility." She commented, moving over to check Harry.

"How long have we been unconscious?" Hermione asked, business-like as usual.

"Eighteen days." Chaos said briefly, biting her lip. "We've been worried. Especially when you began to injure yourselves spontaneously- it was a shock, coming in in the middle of the night and seeing three identical bloodstains on each of you."

Chaos moved over to Hermione with a quick nod at Harry. "You all seem to be quite normal." She said, at length. "The wounds are healing amazingly fast."

Draco pulled himself into sitting position. "What's been happening?"

"The world's been re-arranging itself. You've missed a lot. It's like a whole new reality." Chaos said, watching in bewilderment as the three patients exchanged glances. "But everything's pretty much back to normal- the TimeFreeze was deactivated the day after you went into a coma. Hogwarts is getting itself ready for a new batch of students, Azkaban's packed full once more." Chaos noted the look on Draco's face. "You got it right- the Dementors are back. Everything's better than it was- people are all smiling, there's an atmosphere of openness. It's like evil never existed."

"That's- good- right?" Harry said, uncertainly. "But Voldemort would have survived. It's simply a matter of time."

Chaos-Elizabeth, nodded. "But a long, long time we're hoping. You guys have got a _lot_ of publicity." Chaos looked down at her notes. "So many people came to see you- Senneca, Celeste, Blaze, Ginny, Percy, Padma..." She counted off on her fingers. "And Draco- your father-"

"If you're going to say he came to see me I'll throw up." He drawled, a disgusted expression on his elfin features.

"Er- no. He's in Azkaban."

---  
|| _Two weeks later..._

Harry looked up from his desk, hearing the rap on his door. Professor McGonagall, the new principal of Hogwarts, had lent him a room on top of the library since he didn't have a home of his own. Draco and Hermione were at Malfoy Manor- soon to be renamed Valwracen Hall- and though they had extended an invitation, Harry hadn't wanted to interrupt their 'honeymoon'.

"Come."

The door opened a crack, and was then pushed open with decisive force. "Harry." There was only one person that melodious voice could belong to. Fleur Delacour undulated in, her beauty even more breathtaking than the last time he had seen her.

"Fleur." Harry said, managing to keep his tone free of rancour.

"Please Harry. I came to apologeese." Her voice was of a small child's, meek and terrified. "I would do anytheeng for my sister. She is my life- I love her more zan I could evair love anytheeng. You see- my mother and father weren't really ze family type. When we were at Beauxbatons, I thought she was an annoyance, and I didn't pay any attention to 'er. She came to me one day and told me to take 'er swimming in Crystal Lake- it is nearby Beauxbatons. I refused, I was too busy wiz my friends. Gabriele went." Fleur stopped in her tale, taking a few breaths.

"She almost drowned. A seventh year boy was sweeming nearby and 'e saved 'er. I nearly lost 'er, Harry. I swore to myself that I would nevair let Gabi come to any 'arm- _nevair_. Even if I 'ad to die." Fleur pronounced solemnly. "They took 'er- zey took my leetle sister and zey would 'ave killed 'er if I 'ad not brought you. Please, I am sorry."

Harry listened in stony silence, his eyes on her hand outstretched to him- an olive branch of peace. She had betrayed him, but- Harry couldn't bring himself to hate her. "It's okay Fleur. I- understand."

Fleur nearly collapsed at his feet, praising Magic, her Veela Ancestry and seven minor Gaulish deities in a flow of continuous French. "Thankyou, Harry. You don't know 'ow much it means..." She straightened slightly. "Harry, I meant all those theengs I said- about my life. I really did. I broke up wiz Damien yesterday."

"So?"

"I love you, Harry."

---  
|| _Seven months later, St.Mungo's..._

Draco paced the waiting room outside the Maternity ward, wringing his hands. "What could be taking so long?" He muttered, worried that something had gone wrong. He noted the indulgent looks of the assembled father-to-be's, all looked experienced.

"Yer first, mate?" A plain faced main in a cheap shirt asked with a wink.

"Ah-yes." Draco regarded the man with contempt. He was wearing dark glasses, and had turned his hair a darker colour so as not to be recognised. It wouldn't be- practical- to be recognised as the most feared Dark Wizard in the history of magic. Draco hadn't done a thing after the war, but the tales of his deeds while fighting and commanding had spread. Valwracen had soon replaced Voldemort in people's hearts.

There was the sound of running and the double-doors swung open as a wiry, black haired man skidded to a halt. "Draco!" He yelled, pulling the disguised man into a manly hug. "Got here as fast as I could." he gasped out, still panting from the run. "How is she?"

"They won't tell me yet. Been in there for five hours, dammit!"

The doors swung open once again and every man in the room straightened up and stared. Fleur Delacour sashayed in, attired impeccably in a dark blue evening suit, not a hair out of place and not even faintly out of breath. She kissed Draco on each cheek. "_Mon cher_."

"Fleur- or should I say Mrs Potter?- nice to see you." Draco commented wryly.

"Mrs Potter sounds so _old_, Draco, sweet. Ms Delacour is better." Fleur was about to say something else when the door to the maternity ward swung open and a nurse came out.

"Mister Granger? Could you follow me please?" Harry stifled a chuckle at Draco's choice of undercover name.

"Go on then, Mister _Granger_- don't stand there looking like you've seen ghost!" Harry said, pushing him in.

Hermione was lying on the bed, beads of perspiration dotting her brow. "Draco?" She called, plaintively. 

"I'm here, honey. Shh..." He said, holding her hand.

The nurse returned with a baby, wrapped soundly in white cloth. "You have a beautiful baby girl." She pronounced, handing her over to Hermione.

Draco looked uncomfortable, he still hadn't told Hermione the truth. He never would. He watched her as she cradled the child in her arms, a serene aura surrounding them. The child's eyes were screwed shut and she was bawling.

"She's beautiful." Hermione breathed, touching the baby's soft cheek. "Our beautiful Draco Narcissa RavenClaw Malfoy."

"It's a mouthful, I know."

"It's a wonderful name. I know she'll like it." Draco placed an arm around Hermione, holding her protectively. Harry and Fleur came in, standing to one side, waiting for an appropriate moment.

Slowly, almost deliberately the little baby opened her eyes. 

They were light, startling green.

If Hermione Granger noticed, she certainly didn't show it.

---  
**A/N Part 18:**

Yes, I finally finished it off. Fear not- there's still the epilogue to come, I'll be tying up all the loose ends in that one. As you can see, we've gone through a major format change, and hopefully the rest of the series will be uploaded in their new format soon. I'll be redoing the first few chapters- so watch out for that.

Thankyou everyone who's helped me and inspired me- too many names to list, but you know who your are. Thankyou everyone who's reviewed- I love, love, love you all. Send me [mail][1] please.

Hermione's test was deliberately left out, so worry not about that.

I hope you've sincerely enjoyed this series and that you show this by leaving me a good, long review.

It's been so much fun writing for all of you and I'll be continuing it in the near future. The epilogue will be done as soon as possible, but I have exams in two weeks- so maybe after that.

We have a sequel and a prequel planned, and the prologues to both will be up after I'm done with this epilogue.

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	19. Epilogue

**Harry Potter & the Trident's Curse**

---

_People are stupid; given proper motivation, almost anyone will believe almost anyting. Because people are stupid, they will believe a lie because they want to believe it's true. People's heads are full of knowledge, facts, and beliefs, and most of it is false, yet they think it all true. People are stupid; they can only rarely tell the difference between a lie and the truth, and yet they are confident they can, and so are all the easier to fool." _

|Wizards First Rule-Zeddicus Zorander|

--- 

**Epilogue**-

_Azkaban, one year later..._

The cold towers of Azkaban pierced the sky with their spokes as the waves beat relentlessly upon the rocky shores of the prison. The day was cold, a slight hint of greyness in the clouds bespoke of light showers. A loud, shrill shreik broke the silence, and could easily be traced to the fearsome black dragon tethered behind it's precints. A tall figure wrapped in a flowing cloak ascended the grime-laden pathway into the dank gloom of Azkaban.

He did not even knock, the door was opened for him.

"Master." The Dementor fell to it's knees.

"Reil. I wish to see him." The figure threw back the hood of the cloak to display argent-blond hair. He was seemingly unaffected by the Dementor's presence. The kneeling figure looked up, obviously startled, and drew in a great rattling breath. Draco shied away from him, his grey eyes flashing fire. "No!"

"I beg pardon, Master. I will lead you to...him."

The Dementor led Draco Malfoy through a series of twisting corridors. To each side were thick metal doors, reinforced with haematite. Though it was a secret closely guarded by the Wizarding Community, Iron compounds were disastrous to magic- it either rebounded off it or was absorbed by it. The Haematite lent a brownish, rusty appearance to the entire place and filled Draco's delicate olfactory senses with it's pervasive smell.

Reil opened a door and drew back, allowing his master to pass inside.

A graceful man with the same silver-blond hair, but with different deep blue eyes looked up. His face was wan, and dark bags formed under his eyes. Yet he did not look pushed to desperation or haunted by reminiscence. He was a Malfoy- and Malfoys face their troubles with equanimity.

"Hello, father." Draco said, his tone unemotional.

"Draco." Lucius regarded him with a critical eye. "Son."

"By blood only, Lucius."

The elder Malfoy arose and paced the room, stopping to gaze reflectively through the small slit which hardly deserved the title of 'window'. "Why are you here? I presume that this isn't simply a familial call. There must be another reason."

Draco smiled strainedly. "Ah- right and wrong. I do have a reason- but it is a _familial_ visit." With a flourish, Draco cast aside his cloak- and the dim light of the Azkaban prison cell revealed two beautiful babies.

Lucius' eyes softened, and he took a few careful steps closer to his son. "I'm a bloody grandfather at thirty six." He whispered to himself. "How old are you anyway, eighteen- nineteen?"

"Nineteen- if you count the time we spent inside the TimeFreeze."

Lucius reached out a hand and touched the older of the two gently. "What are their names?"

"She's Draca Ariane Malfoy, sort of derived from Marian- Mia's mother, and-" Draco smiled fondly at his barely month old son. "-he's Daryl Antonius Malfoy. After great-grandfather."

Lucius' expression was indescribable- he cradled both children in his arms. Draco watched warily, his concentration never straying. "They're...wonderful." He touched the forehead of his grandson gently. The hand that slaughtered thousands delicately brushed over the baby's skin. Draca Ariane opened her eyes and Lucius' lips stretched into an approximation of a smile. "Well, well...green eyes."

Draco stood straight, unflinching. "Yes."

"Your little MudBlood brunette is straying. What's the matter, Draco-son, can't keep her satisfied?"

"She's _my_ daughter." Draco said simply.

"Really? Explain the eyes, then?" Lucius regarded Draco's impassive face and looked back at the baby. "Oh Magic Undone, Draco- this isn't Hermione Granger's kid...it's Parthenope Czyren's! You're more a Malfoy than I thought you were."

Draco did not reply.

"She's PureBlood, then- it's just...your _son_." Lucius smiled wanly. "I don't really care anymore, Draco. They're Malfoys and that's all that matters...dammit, you're not even _human_ any more, Draco." Lucius sighed, sounding more like an aged, decrepit pensioner than the vigorous young man his physiognomy claimed him to be. 

"Oh that's a fine thing for you to say, father. _I'm_ not even human." Draco reached out for his two children. "I don't want to argue with you. I came to say goodbye."

Lucius sat down heavily, his back suddenly lax and stooped. "They're administering the Kiss? So soon?"

Draco laughed shortly. "Oh, Father. You're not going to die..._I_ am."

---  
||Six months later, Valwracen Hall

The crowd gathered was small- but the emotion they displayed more than made up for the size. The press coverage was extensive, with broadcasts on every Wizarding service. Only BBC WizardWorld and the Daily Prophet had been allowed direct access- they were supplying the video shots to the other companies. Unlike their usual behaviour, the Press was acting remarkably restrained.

That is, apart from _one_ person.

Dressed in orange-red robes with a black sash to pass for mourning colours and sucking on a traffic-light red QuillQuotes pen was Ms Rita Lila Skeeter. One arm was draped around a teenager in dark blue, sucking on an aquamarine pen with the same intensity as Rita. 

"The resemblance is striking." Harrison James Potter enunciated acidly as he passed her. "Your daughter?"

Rita Skeeter smiled widely. "Oh _Harry_, darling! We simply _must_ do an interview...The Boy Who Lived and his amazing friendship with the Dark Lord of our times!" She tightened her hold on the younger girl. "This is my niece Nicole."

The teenager didn't seem to ecstatic about the introduction. "Nicky. Nicky Skeeter." She said, flashing a typical reporter smile.

Harry didn't even acknowledge the girl. "Draco was _not_ the Dark Lord! He helped bring down Voldemort...what has he ever done?"

"Oh Harry, darling! Didn't you even _hear_ about the War? And about those raids on Gringotts and his link with those disgusting Dementors and things? And can I quote you on that? Of course I can!" Harry's eyes widened at Rita kept talking.

"I hear Fleur calling...got to go. Sorry, Rita." Harry said hurriedly, excusing himself.

It was hard enough his friend was dead- now this Skeeter woman had to be at his funeral. He hurried inside towards Hermione's room, knocking.

"Come." A thin, tremulous voice said. "Harry! Oh Harry!"

Hermione threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. Her cheeks were sallow and her mouth trembling, grief written into every crease. Harry pulled her towards the sofa, making her sit down. "I'll make some tea." He said, softly.

"How am I going to get through this, Harry? I have two kids- my daughter's one and a half and my son going to be an year old. And I'm just sodding twenty." She sucked on her bottom lip, running her fingers through limp hair.

"You're Hermione Granger. You'll get through this. Shall we go visit the..the.." Harry fumbled for a word as his mouth caught on 'grave'. "..place..since the ceremonies are over?" He asked, supporting her as she got up. "Where's Fleur?"

"Getting the kids. And on the same note- are we going to see Harry the papa any time soon?" She asked, smiling wanly.

"Er- not just yet. Fleur has- other things on her mind...and we take care of Gabriele as well."

Hermione smirked slowly, making a conscious effort not to be gloomy. "Gabriele Delacour- she's growing up to be even prettier than her sister, isn't she?"

Harry blushed. "Well...er- it's all in the family, I suppose."

They walked the rest of the way in silence. The Malfoy Tombs were large, tranquil and disgustingly lavish. The Malfoy dead seemed to live in more splendour than even their living relatives. The last tomb was less ornate- simple polished granite inset with silver gleamed in it's newness. The headstone was smooth and rounded, bearing the statuette of a dragonhead and the Malfoy family crest.

Hermione took a white rose from the bunch she had been carrying. They seemed out of place, somehow. The thorns hadn't been removed, and as she bent to place it by the tombstone, her skin was pierced by it's sharpness. Drops of scarlet blood dripped onto the cream-ivory petals like a guilty blush. Hermione smiled gently at the parallels.

Fleur Delacour appeared on the scene, in her arms were Hermione's children- neither of them bawling or making any sort of noise- as if the sanctity of the place had already been stamped upon the nacent minds. Hermione took the children from Fleur, her eyes lingering on Draca's visage. It seemed preternaturally knowing- almost eerily powerful.

"Goodbye, Draco Malfoy." She said, quietly- her whisper pervasive enough for all three adults to hear.

_You said you wouldn't leave me. That we'd love each other forever. You left me. You broke your promise. You broke me._

Hermione Granger turned on her heel and strode back towards the Hall- she would not cry at his grave. She would not cry. Harry and Fleur followed, with Harry casting one last glance towards Draco's resting place. He seemed about to say something but stopped. Hermione should have the last word.

Though he wondered deeply why she had chosen those particular words to emblazon on his gravestone.

_**Draco Argentus Valwracen Malfoy**  
"The evil that men do live after them,  
And the good is oft interred with their bones."  
Julius Caesar|Shakespeare_

---  
||Eighty years later

"A toast- to my love, Harry."

The tinkle of two glasses touching pervaded the still room- the woman's lips were twisted into a rueful smile. She stood taller that the boy- youthful as he seemed. His black hair was tousled, his features uncreased- yet his green eyes seemed weary. They held the same tired, beaten light that shone from Azaelyste's.

"And to my love- Elfin High Empress Azaelyste." Harry Potter's tone seemed to gently mock her title, while otherwise sincere.

"One hundred years of your life, Harry." She said, smiling. "And twenty with me. A mere blink of an eyelid." Azaelyste had made a conscious effort to keep track of mortal spans of time.

"Azaelyste- wait..." Harry cleared his throat, his eyes flicking downwards. "I must impart some knowledge to you." In twenty years he had adapted to her and her lavish lifestyle- now the Elfin Court was a second home to him. It's raging beauty awed his ancient eyes no more.

"Do so, my sweet. What knowledge is this that I am unaware of?" She placed a finger to her lips, a slow smile spreading accross them. "But after that- I must impart some knowledge to _you_."

"Azael...the Trident...I lied. I said that I was not Chosen. Those who fail in the tests are put to death."

The Empress drew away, horror on her delicate features. "That means- you were chosen." She whispered, her voice harsh and pained. "And when you turn one hundred mortal years of age you shall Ascend and be with the others of the Trident- and be mine no more."

Harry tried to take her hand in his, but she drew it away. "Please, Az- I'm sorry...I'm so-"

The specially magicked clock in the room began to chime twelve o'clock.

"One hundred years. Congratulations, my love. History has repeated itself once more." Azael stood stiffly, emotion queerly absent from her face.

"I love you, Azaelyste."

"I know." 

A white, ephemeral light invaded the room, seeping over every surface like liquid mercury. It washed over Harry, swirling around him like silken sheets- and when the brightness dimmed, he was gone. 

Elfin Empress Azaelyste placed a spindly hand on her stomach, feeling it swell beneath the multitudes of dress layers and sighed. She had at least kept a part of her last Gryffindor lover- a part that nobody- not even Destiny- could take away.

---  
||The Plane of the Trident

The Ceremony had taken place nearly eighty years ago, but the Trident had not Ascended. They had been placed in a kind of stasis- a point in the infinite universe where space and time no longer existed, not even in the rudimentary forms as on the mortal plane. The two of the Trident awaited the death of the Third and final member.

Since he had been gifted immortality- he had been given one hundred years in which to exist in the form of matter, before he too, became one with the Trident's Plane.

Harry felt the atoms in his body come apart and float away with a sense of complacence. Somehow he knew that this was meant to happen- that it was nothing to be alarmed by. _This is my Destiny._ Sure enough, soon he was nothing but pure energy. A stream of consciousness, not weak, like Lord Voldemort had been after his defeat, but strong and pulsing.

He- or rather It- felt an enormous sense of power- yet he felt it's limitations as well. He was all-knowing yet ignorant at the same time. His mind felt it would explode with the infinite possibility of the Universe. The stream of consciousness manipulated space briefly and rather crudely- guided towards a place with some kind of primal instinct.

Draco and Hermione were there- if they could be called Draco and Hermione. They too, had been changed into beings devoid of matter. Reality swirled around them, hovering at the boundaries of their minds- too hesitant to enter it's bounds.

With one smooth, flowing motion they came together as one- swirling chaotically before exerting centrifugal forces on themselves and forming into a perfect sphere. They/It/Trident, for they could not be described individually after the Melding, pulsed gently, extending their consciousness with tentative motions.

Soon, their Knowing was spread all throughout the universe. Each photon ray emitted by a star, each atomic reaction within a sun and each particle of dust emitted by an asteroid was felt and noted. Yet this did not take up their primary functions- all this went on only subliminally. Consciously, They/It/Trident could do anything they wished.

Though One- they contained separate thoughts- a certain modicum of individuality was maintained.

_ "The Mortal Plane is in Stasis."_

"A new Reality must be forged."

"A Reality without the Trident three."

"Will the mortals believe?"

"They always belive."

"Let us begin."

There was a pause for a millisecond, when They/It/Trident gathered themselves- assessing the limitless powers they possessed and deciding how best to use them.

For a millisecond, all was quiet in the Universe...

And Reality came apart.

[**Finis?**][1]

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   [1]: http://draconique.i-p.com/an.htm



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